


Bergentrückung

by TellCosy



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Adult Frisk, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Dark, Anti-Hero, Battle Scenes, Cigarettes, Dark Humor, F/M, Fast/Slow Burn, Female Frisk, Graphic Violence, Human Sacrifice, Kidnapping, Light BDSM, M/M, Magical Frisk, Miscommunication, Power Dynamics, Reader Is Frisk, Rollercoaster Ride Romance, Romance, Self Confidence, Sex Positive, Sexual Tension, Skeletons In Suits, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-05-20 13:05:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 77,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6007249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TellCosy/pseuds/TellCosy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one really believes the rumours of demons living in Mt. Ebott, except for children. Frisk has long since grown out of the idea of fairy tales, but she's still ready to accept any hero if it means she's no longer a prisoner. Even if that hero is a skeleton. AU where Frisk doesn't fall as a child.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> Helloooo!
> 
> COURTESY CALL FOR EVERYONE:
> 
> This basically reads like a romance novel. If that isn't your biz, then you probably won't enjoy this one. Keeping that in mind, let's do this!

The sun was setting on the mountain top.

"Burn her!"

The birds were singing softly in the trees.

"String her up!"

The cave wall was glistening in the dying light.

“Cut off her head!”

Whatever happened, you'd be with her again, soon.

“For her crimes against the one true God, she shall be…fed to the depths.”

The crowd roared with bloodlust, and you stared ahead silently.

“Let this judgement bring fortune to our village once more.”

You were hauled forward, to the lip of the gaping maw.

“Let the demon in her meet its fate below.”

There was only darkness waiting below.

“Let the judged speak their last words.”

You faced the angry mob, and smiled.

“See you in hell.”

You stepped backwards into the chasm, laughing the whole way down.

 

~

 

Whispering met your ears as you drifted in and out of consciousness. You tried to open your eyes, but you lost your grip on reality before you could manage. When you swam back out of your dreams again, you could feel yourself being taken somewhere, slung over a large, warm shoulder. You groaned from the blood pooling in your head, and slipped under the darkness once more.

You woke to the sound of heavy breathing as you were slung onto a bed that was much too small for you, the springs creaking under your sudden weight. You moaned as your stomach flopped and your head pounded. You were awake with clarity the moment you felt your gut revolt, and you slung yourself to the side just in time for vomit to force its way up your throat and all over the carpeted floor. You shuddered, dry heaving long after not even water was left, and your eyes were leaking with the pain of it. You whimpered as your stomach finally had mercy on you, and you lay limp with your body half-off the bed, your fingers dangerously close to your own sick. You heard a noise of concern from a throat that didn't sound exactly human. You froze and looked up at the looming shadow, your hair falling into your eyes.

They were tall, and looked as though they were wearing some kind of robe, their body shrouded. Through your fuzzy sight, you caught a glimpse of large, floppy ears and...horns?...before the figure mumbled something about a possible concussion and turned away, shuffling out the door. You stared after them, mouth agape. So it was true. There really were demons living in the mountain, just below human feet. The knowledge gave you a sudden thrill, and it wasn't even close to fear. You'd never really believed the rumours that had traveled far from the mountain itself, but secretly you'd hoped they were true. You'd always wanted to meet a real demon face-to-face.

You supposed being compared to one on a daily basis had made you curious.

You took quick stock of your surroundings, breathing through your mouth so you didn't have to smell the stench emanating from the floor. You sat up as best as you could, but with your hands and legs still tied together, the best you could do was scooting into a semi-upright position. It seemed you were in somebody's bedroom—possibly a child's. No, very likely a child's, considering there were toys spilling over the lip of a box at the foot of the bed, and hand-drawn pictures all over the walls. Not to mention the size of the bed itself, which forced you to scrunch yourself up even more. It looked like no one had used the room in a while, though, as every movement you made kicked up an impressive amount of dust, making your eyes water. You were fairly uncomfortable, to say the least.

It struck you as incredibly odd for a demon to have a room like this in their house, though. You sincerely hadn't even considered the thought of where or how they lived, never mind how their children's rooms would look.

The large demon returned, their face shadowed against the light spilling in from the hall. “Here,” they said gruffly, and walked forward to shove something at you. You thought they sounded feminine, and now that you could see their face, with their soft, white fur and their black, pupil-less eyes staring down at you with some emotion not far from kindness, you thought they looked very motherly. “This will help you with your head.”

You glanced down at the thing they held in their hands. It was a bar of chocolate. You blinked, wondering if it would be poisoned, but when your stomach clenched tight with hunger, you snatched it up without another thought. You ripped into the wrapping with your teeth and bit off a large chunk, nearly swallowing it whole. Your stomach protested for a moment, but when you closed your eyes and curled up tighter, willing the chocolate to _stay down_ , it calmed. You hadn't eaten anything for two days, and even then, it had only been a bit of bread and slightly mouldy cheese. Just enough to survive until your judgement.

“That's monster food,” the matronly demon said, and you looked at her warily as you continued eating voraciously. You didn't care if she was about to tell you it would kill you from the inside. You'd thought you'd be dead by the fall, anyway, so what did it matter to you if you died now? At least you'd gotten to eat before you died. “It will heal you faster than simple bedrest.”

You chewed thoughtfully, your eyes skating over the demon. “If you're trying to fatten me up to eat, I wouldn't bother. The meat on me won't be any good for that.”

The demon's eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly. “No, child, I’m not intending to eat you. Why-ever would a monster want to eat a human?”

You shrugged, swallowing the last of the chocolate and sitting up a little straighter. Huh. Your headache _was_ actually better now, and your stomach no longer flopped like a dying fish whenever you moved. You wondered what was in it that worked so fast. What had she called it, and herself? Monster…? “So you're not a demon, then?”

The monster made a face of mild disgust. “Is that what they're calling us up there, now?”

You nodded, shifting your wrists in the binding so it didn't chafe so badly. “The village I was at did, at least. Everyone has their own myths about the mountain, though.”

The monster stood tall, and you thought she looked regal enough to be a queen. “It's for the best, I suppose. These days, we are not exactly...far from that description.” The monster seemed to be speaking mostly to herself, her head turned to face a drawing of a flower on the wall. Her features contorted with sadness for a brief moment before she turned back to you, all emotion gone. “Anyway. I have called for someone to take you out of the ruins as soon as possible. You won't be here long, but feel free to make yourself at home during your stay.”

You watched silently as the animal-like monster left the room, leaving the door wide open behind it. You took note of that instantly, seeing an escape route. You waited until you could hear the monster padding far down the hall before you began working on getting the bindings off of yourself. They were tight, though, and you were weak from the lack of food you'd had for the past few...well, ever, really. You gritted your teeth with frustration after a small break, and set to work with renewed vigour on the foot bindings. You wanted those removed, at the very least. You could choke someone with the bindings on your hands if necessary, but if you couldn't even walk properly, you certainly wouldn't be able to run away if you came across something stronger than you.

You worked at them for a long while until your fingertips were raw and red, and your back ached desperately from the position you were hunched in. You were panting with exertion and more than a little angry by the time you got your legs free, but it was such an accomplishment that you hooted in victory. You tossed the rope across the room and kicked your feet over the side of the bed, standing on shaky legs. You don't know how hurt you'd been by the fall, but it seemed that whatever strange magic the monster had put in the food had worked wonders. You couldn’t feel any obvious pains, other than hunger.

You were just about to peek beyond the doorway to see if the hallway was clear but, before you could, you heard loud talking coming from around the corner. You couldn't make out any particular words, but it set you on edge to hear a different voice than the monster you knew. When the voices started down the hall to where you were, you leapt back on the bed, sitting in such a way that your ankles weren't easily visible. You were already planning on either a sprint past the monsters once they entered, or attacking them if necessary, if they tried anything. You didn't particularly want to take your chances, though, considering how useless you'd been at even untying the knots on your bindings.

Your plan was abandoned the moment you saw what entered the room. It was a—a _skeleton_. A _tall_ skeleton, dressed in a full suit, hat included, that was so dark blue to appear almost black with dove grey pinstripes. It took one look at you before its eyes went wide, and you were incredibly unnerved at the fact that its face could emote. What _was_ it? Was it a monster, like the other, or was it something else? You wanted to keep an eye on the other monster at the same time, but something about the skeleton held your attention. Maybe it was simply human nature to stare at something that should be _inside_ _skin_.

“TORIEL, THIS IS THE HUMAN?” the skeleton practically shouted, making you flinch, and its voice reminded you instantly of the skeletons in old cartoons you'd watched as a child. It sounded _just_ as you'd imagined it would. Slightly masculine, and overly enthusiastic, it made you want to keep him talking just to listen to what he had to say. “WHY IS IT TIED UP?”

“She fell that way,” the other monster—Toriel, you supposed—said. She glanced down at your feet, and frowned. “I'd watch this one, Papyrus. She had bindings on her ankles as well, before I left her.”

“DON'T WORRY, I’LL BE FINE,” the skeleton, Papyrus, said with absolute confidence. You were torn, then, partly impressed and partly amused with the way he looked at you then, as though you couldn't possibly pose a threat. Well, you hoped you wouldn’t have to prove him wrong.

Toriel merely hummed in response, and took a step back. “If that's all you require, then…?”

Papyrus gave an affirmative grunt. “I'LL BE TAKING IT NOW, IF YOU DON'T MIND.” Something in the way he said this indicated to you that he wasn't  asking, but telling.

Toriel seemed to expect it, though, and nodded. “Better a human like that leaves the ruins as soon as possible. Before she can do any harm,” she said with a dark, sidelong glance at you as she left.

You were left in silence with the skeleton, who seemed to be studying you as you sat, your legs going slowly numb. You tried not to squirm under his gaze, but it was nearly impossible. He had a strange, direct aura about him. You stared defiantly back at him, and finally he smiled, seemingly satisfied with you. He stepped closer—close enough to you that you could have choked him out, if he wasn't, uh, a _skeleton_ —and produced a sharp-looking bone knife, leaning down and slicing through your bindings before you could even react. He stepped back and held a leather glove-clad hand out to you. You blinked, and took it, figuring it would be better to give a monster with a knife the benefit of the doubt with your trust, even as you kept an eye on him. He helped you to your feet and released you as soon as you were steady, stepping back to give you space. It made you stare even more than you already were.

A gentleman skeleton. 

You had no idea what to think about that.

He gestured for you to follow him as though there was no question you would, and you were surprised to find yourself doing so, indeed without question. You didn't know if it was mere curiosity to see what else this mountain had in store for you, or if it was some other sick fascination that would lead you into trouble, as usual.

Either way, you were already in step behind Papyrus, and there was no real need for you to stop now. He seemed like he might be in charge down here, and it was clear Toriel wanted you gone, so you figured it was for the best to not put up a fight. You hesitated slightly as he headed downstairs into a bleak, grey basement area, but followed despite your nerves. You sighed under your breath, your heart fluttering in the uneasy silence. 

You didn’t know how you always managed to find yourself going from one bad situation to the next, but it happened without fail. You were always wondering if the new day would be the end for you, but it hadn't come so far. It hadn't even happened when you'd been one hundred percent certain it would. You wished that meant you could relax sometimes, but it didn't seem like it. Not especially here, and now. You had no idea how this new place functioned, or how you would fit in it, but considering where you'd just come from, you figured it couldn't be much worse for you, if at all.

At least they'd fed you, and as a bonus, nobody had tried to molest you, yet. Even if they tried to kill you now, they'd be one up already.

You came to a giant, runed set of doors, hanging heavily off their hinges, but Papyrus didn't make any mention of them, so you simply passed through as if there was nothing odd about it, tearing your eyes away from the familiar rune. You found yourself in a snowy landscape, forest surrounding you as far as you could see. There was a path through the tall, thin trees, and far ahead, you could see a ramshackle bridge with a large, wide-mouthed wooden gate standing over it. You shivered in the thin, dirty rags you had been wearing while being held in your cell, and you wished you weren't so exposed. Why was there snow under a mountain, anyway, dammit?

“Here,” Papyrus said quietly, and you snapped to attention, realising he had taken off his suit jacket and was holding it out to you, covered only by a white button-down shirt and a waistcoat that matched his suit. You blinked with shock before reaching out to take it from him, slotting your arms inside and buttoning it up, suddenly conscious of how dirty you were. You hoped he wouldn't mind. “Wouldn't want you dying out here.”

You noticed that he was no longer speaking so loudly, and your eyebrows twitched together momentarily. He continued walking without waiting for a response, and you hesitated before catching up enough to walk beside him. The coat helped block some of the icy air, but your legs were still mostly exposed, even though the hem of the coat fell to your lower thighs. You considered pulling your arms through to your chest, but you didn't want to look silly in front of someone you didn't know the first thing about. You suffered stoically in the cold, instead, pretending like every icy gust of wind wasn't sending pins and needles through your bare skin. You made it into a game, counting how many seconds it took for you to regain feeling after each one.

When the counter was up to several alarming seconds, Papyrus spoke. “So, human,” he began with a casual tone that sent alarm bells through you immediately. It was the same way the elder of the village had started many conversations with you before everything had gone horribly wrong.

“You want to tell me why you were thrown down here?” Papyrus asked, glancing down at you. You recoiled slightly.

“No.” Your voice was flat as you responded without thought, and you regretted it instantly when you saw how he smiled. It wasn't happy. You tried to backtrack. “I mean, I wasn't thrown down here. I jumped.”

You noticed the air growing close around you as you approached a wooden stand slightly off the path. The hair on your neck stood up, and you shuddered with the feeling of eyes on your back. You swung around to look behind you, but no one was there. Papyrus didn't seem to notice your nervousness, his eyes facing straight ahead.

“Hmm,” was all he said, and even when you waited for him to continue, he remained silent. It made you wonder if that had been the wrong thing to say, but you didn't dwell on it, choosing instead to focus on your surroundings, when it was clear that Papyrus was not going to be particularly chatty. 

You didn't mind. It made a change from the villagers' constant, mindless prattle. It would have been kind of nice to be able to ask your questions about how things worked down here, though, and whether you were going to be staying or…something else. You weren't dense—you'd heard how Toriel had talked about humans. You got the feeling you weren't exactly welcome under the mountain. Not that you really cared. You hadn't been welcome above the mountain, either, but that hadn't stopped you so far. You would be happy if they just showed you the exit and let you go on your way without trying to kill you first. You'd had quite enough of that for one life, already.

Your mind began to drift in the silence, and you thought about how funny it would be to go back to the village and laugh at everyone there who had demanded your blood. You had survived, through everything they had thrown at you. And now, despite their best efforts, you were trudging through a snowy forest under a mountain, being guided to who-knows-where by a very tall skeleton dressed in a suit. Even better was the fact that even if the monsters just pointed you to the exit, you would still be invariably dead in the water as soon as you got to the surface. You had no food, no money, and were barely even dressed. It made your head spin the more you thought about it, and you were smiling before you could stop yourself. The thought was absolutely ridiculous, and you had to hold a hand to your mouth to keep from laughing aloud. Well, at least you could get a giggle out of it, despite how incredibly fucked you were.

You glanced up at Papyrus to see if he had noticed, but he made no sign of even remembering that you were there. Your eyebrows rose up under your hair, and you kicked at the snow as you walked, starting to feel a bit like you were being deliberately ignored. Your instincts battled, with one voice telling you that it was a good thing—you should be happy the complete stranger who also happened to be a monster was leaving you alone—and the other voice saying you really wanted his attention. For what purpose, you had no idea. Maybe it was a survival thing, wanting to know what your opponent, such as he was, was thinking about you, so you could react accordingly when the time came. Maybe it was more of a social thing, wanting to connect with the monsters you had dreamt about meeting since you were a child. Or maybe it was simply vanity. No matter what it was, you found yourself wrestling with the idea of what exactly to say to break the iceberg-sized silence between you.

You opened your mouth, still unsure of what you were going to say, but it snapped shut when you heard the sound of snow crunching behind you. You whirled around to find only the wind there to greet you. But no, that wasn't all. There, in the snow, was a pair of footprints walking beside yours and Papyrus's, but ending suddenly, with no clear sign of where the person had gone. You shivered violently, your eyes wide as you inspected the trees around you, looking for any tiny movement. When you saw nothing, and you realised that Papyrus had continued on without you again, you turned and fled, catching up to him with your heart in your throat. 

What could that have been? Those were definitely human footprints. Or, at least, something shaped like them. You shivered again, and kept close to Papyrus. You kept glancing behind you as you continued walking, but you could never catch sight of anything. You wondered if you were finally losing it after all, but you didn't feel as though you were going mad. You just had this unavoidable, clawing fear that somebody was following you. You tried to ignore it, but with Papyrus so quiet, you could hear every single twig snap and notice with extreme clarity every time your skin crawled. You also couldn't help but notice that your ears would pop with pressure whenever you sensed it happening, as though the air itself didn’t like whatever it was, and was trying to get out of its way. You began to walk much quicker than before. Papyrus widened his stride to match your pace, but still said nothing.

You were so nervous that by the time you could catch the sound of voices on the wind, you nearly shouted with excitement. Finally, there would be something else to listen to besides your own heart hammering away. But when you approached the source of the voices, everything went quiet. You heard a flurry of activity just as you rounded a corner, and by the time you could see past the trees, there was nobody to be found. You thought you saw some tree limbs rustle, and maybe hear some whispers drifting on the breeze, but there was otherwise no inkling that anyone had just been there.

You were really starting to get a bad feeling about this.

The same thing happened repeatedly as you continued on, but with more, and louder voices seemingly disappearing into thin air. You thought you caught a glimpse of a large icicle once, and then a pair of sunglasses, but you couldn't be sure, as they were gone in the next instant. Finally, though, you could see warm lights up ahead in the distance, just past a long, dangerous-looking bridge. You approached it with wide eyes, peering down into the canyon as your mouth dropped open softly. “Wow, and I thought the fall _into_ this place was bad.”

You heard quiet laughter, then, but when you looked up to Papyrus with a grin, he wasn't even close enough to have heard you, having already started across the bridge. Your own smile dropped instantly, and you rushed to catch up to him, too afraid to look behind you. What the hell was going on? Were there ghosts as well as monsters, now, and were you being haunted by one who was pretty bad at its job? It couldn't even be considered a haunting, really, if all it was going to do was follow you, make eerie sounds, and then laugh at your jokes. That sounded pretty alright to you, to be honest. You could live with that.

You were so wound up about the ghost-monster idea you'd had that you didn't even notice that you were now heading into a monster village. Then you heard someone call out Papyrus's name. The second they did, Papyrus's whole demeanour changed, and you found yourself staring up at the suddenly-very-imposing figure that he made as he drew himself to his full height. He held a hand out to you and you took it, stepping up beside him and feeling like a child taking its father's hand when faced with strangers. You didn’t even come up to his shoulder. You felt foolish, but you weren't about to protest when you had no idea what the repercussions would be.

Plus, it was actually kind of nice to have even the semblance of support that holding Papyrus's hand afforded you, once the monsters in the village had surrounded you. You wondered if it was obvious to them that you were staring. You sincerely doubted they noticed, though, as they were all fully agape at the sight of you, as well. You couldn't imagine why they would care about a single boring human, when they were all so fantastic. There was a whirlwind of different shapes, sizes, and colours amongst the monsters collected—just in one glance, you saw a bear, one that actually looked like a stereotypical demon, and was that another skeleton, at the back?—and you were a bit dizzy trying to look at them all without appearing rude. You couldn't help your curiosity, but you could help your manners, as your mom had always said.

It turned out that the monsters had been looking for Papyrus to settle some disputes, but once he introduced you as a human, they gasped and stepped back. You blinked at the fact that Papyrus was using his louder, more authoritative voice again, but you couldn't help but be slightly impressed with him again at the obvious respect they had for him, even though you'd only ever hated authority figures before. He seemed different than the others you’d known. More like his influence was a natural result of his personality, and less like he had weaseled his way into power. At least, you gathered as much by the way everyone smiled and called out to him as you passed through the bustling town, even as they gave both of you space. You'd never seen anything like it before.

It was a strange experience for you, to say the least.

Papyrus was directing you towards a large house near the other end of the town, being polite but firm with everyone as he told them he was very busy and couldn't stop to talk. You had to nearly jog to keep up with his long stride, but you still managed to notice how odd it was when a short monster leaning against the far side of the library didn't call to or even look at Papyrus at all. Instead, the lights deep in its empty eye sockets were focused directly on you as you walked past, the eerie grin on its face making your stomach flutter. You realised it was the same skeleton you had seen in the crowd before, just as Papyrus pulled you up to the door of the house, opening it and yanking you inside in one motion. You stumbled and knocked your hip against a table, barely managing to catch yourself. The door slammed behind you as you rubbed where you could tell a bruise was already forming, frowning.

You heard a sigh of relief from Papyrus, and you turned to ask him what that the hell he’d meant by shoving you like that, but the question died on your lips. Papyrus was standing off to the side, his arms crossed as he looked in your direction with something akin to worry on his face, but that wasn't what had stopped you dead.

Beside him, leaning against the closed door with an aura of brash confidence, stood the short skeleton, legs crossed at the ankle and hands in trouser pockets. His grin was much wider now, and it made you proportionately more anxious to see. A cigarette dangled from the corner of his mouth, the smoke from it drifting out as he said with a deep, rumbling voice,

“human, huh? we're gonna have some fun, now, aren't we?”


	2. The Brothers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk isn't too sure about Papyrus's brother.

“This is Sans,” Papyrus said after a short, awkward silence, his voice back to a softer pitch. “My brother.”

You fiddled with the hem of Papyrus’s suit jacket, looking between him and the short, sloppily dressed skeleton that had spoken to you, your eyebrows lifted and drawn together. “Um.”

“what, you don’t see the resemblance?” Sans asked, sounding amused.

You shifted from one foot to the other, inspecting him. He was easily a half-foot shorter than you—if not more—and wearing tan trousers, the wide legs falling to scuffed brown leather shoes, giving him the illusion of a human’s silhouette. His white button-down shirt was untucked and had the sleeves rolled up to the elbow, exposing his radius and ulna and the dark runes that wound up along them, looking as though they’d been burned on. He had on a long navy tie that was tucked loosely in the waistband of his trousers and suspenders over his shirt, rumpling it thoroughly and adding to his overall unkempt appearance.

Compared to you, he looked pretty well-dressed. But compared to Papyrus? He was like a Dickensian urchin.

You opened your mouth to say so, but then thought better of it. There was something unsettling about Sans, and you didn’t want to push your luck before you’d even properly met. You shrugged instead, and Sans grinned wider, his cigarette’s end lighting up as he took another drag and blew smoke in your direction. Papyrus sighed roughly.

“Sans, for God’s sake, tuck your shirt in. You look like you just fell out of a dumpster,” Papyrus scolded tiredly, as though he’d had to tell his brother off for this many times before.

“you’re not the boss of me,” Sans replied, tossing a grin to his brother, who rolled his eyes.

“Ignore him,” Papyrus said to you, and you smiled, your arms crossing loosely. “Why don’t you make yourself at home? My brother and I will be right back. We need to have a quick chat.”

You nodded and stepped back so they could pass by you. You had to lean even farther away to stay out of Sans’s path, though, as he almost barrelled into you. You threw a dark look at his back, but when he glanced over his shoulder at you as though he could feel your eyes on him, you looked away. You heard laughter as they stomped upstairs and entered a room there, the door slamming behind them. You flushed with annoyance as you glared at the staircase before telling yourself to just do as Papyrus said, and ignore the other skeleton. You’d known men just like him on the surface, most of them bullies who blustered and boasted until you stood up to them. You hoped he wasn’t going to be like that, though, considering you might have to stay in the mountain for a while and would likely see him frequently if you did, considering he was Papyrus’s brother.

You chuckled, shaking your head. Or maybe you’d be dead at the bottom of the valley by the end of the day. You reminded yourself there was no real need to overthink your future when you had absolutely no idea if you even had one. 

You breathed out a puff of air and forced your body to release the tension it held as you glanced around the room. It was decorated very neutrally—mostly browns and creams, for both wallpaper and furniture, but there were splashes of interest here and there that didn’t seem to fit at all. A bright blue blanket tossed over the side of a worn brown leather wingback armchair. An oddly silly painting of a small dog with a bone in his mouth. A single small rock, just laying in the middle of the coffee table. All of the soft furnishings looked warm and inviting, though, with a large TV hanging on the wall opposite a lovely, squashy brown couch. You could see a kitchen off to the side through an archway, but you weren’t feeling particularly adventurous at the moment. You walked over and perched on the edge of the couch.

You flopped over your legs and looked down at the boots on your feet, huddled in on yourself with your arms tight against your stomach. A fire roared in the fireplace just beside you, and you winced as your skin tingled painfully, thawing in the cozy warmth of the house. You turned your head to the side, your heels propped against the bottom of the couch so that you could rest your temple against your knees. You exhaled deeply, your gaze caught on the tendrils of fire that snapped at you. You wanted nothing more than to just fall asleep and forget about where you were; what had happened. You couldn’t remember when you’d last slept, and you hadn’t been this warm for years. You slowly sank further into the couch, leaning your head against the arm of it, instead. The fire spoke to you in its rumbling, crackling voice, and your eyelids grew heavier the more you listened. It was a sweet, familiar lullaby, its warm fingers stroking your face and wrapping around your shoulders. Your breathing slowed, and you decided to close your eyes while you had the chance.

You snapped awake when you heard pots smashing together in the kitchen, and sat up straight, your head protesting the swift motion. It was dark now, the fireplace banked and only a soft light coming from the kitchen. You rubbed your eyes and stretched, feeling disorientated but fully rested. You realised that you weren’t in the same position you’d apparently fallen asleep in, your legs propped up on the couch and the same blue blanket you’d noticed earlier spread across you. Someone had even taken off your boots. A small, confused smile rose to your lips as you cuddled down into the blanket again as you thought about Papyrus taking care of you. No one had done anything like that for you for so long. You tucked yourself up, inhaling the exotic scent caught on the flannel blanket. It reminded you of wood fire, but with other notes buried underneath, heady and hot and almost spicy in your lungs. It was intoxicating, and you made a noise of appreciation without meaning to, burying your face against the soft fabric.

A deep, quiet chuckle struck a bolt of alarm through you and you sprang up ramrod straight, gasping with shock when you turned and saw there was a figure sitting in the chair across from you. You couldn’t make out who it was at first, but when a small, fiery orange glow appeared, you realised who it must be. Sans. You held a hand over your racing heart, glaring towards where you assumed his eyes should be. What was he doing, sitting in the dark watching you sleep?

“comfortable?” he asked, his voice full of wry humour.

Your lips thinned, and you pulled the blanket higher over you, feeling as though you’d been caught naked. “Should I not be?”

“nah, knock yourself out,” he remarked, and you thought you could see a smile in the dark, now that your eyes were adjusting. You realised his eyes weren’t lit up as they’d been before, and for some reason, that sent chills up your spine. It was very eerie. “pretty brave of you, though, huh?”

You wrapped your arms across your stomach under the blanket, trying to ignore the butterflies there. You didn’t know if he was intending to make you nervous or if he was just naturally creepy, but either way, you were not fully comfortable at the moment. “Is it?”

“well,” he began casually, and you saw smoke drift up to the ceiling. “new kid in town—a human in a cave full of monsters and skeletons, no less—and you just fall asleep without a care in the world in a stranger’s house.”

“It wasn’t intentional, I assure you,” you said, your voice flat. Was he really trying to make you feel bad for crashing on their couch? Was there some kind of disagreement between him and Papyrus about you? You really didn’t want to cause bad feelings just by being there, especially between brothers. “I’ll just get out of your way if you point me to the exit of this place.”

“wow, you sound pretty defensive,” Sans commented, and you bit back a growl of frustration. You were _trying_ to be considerate, but if he was going to be like that— “you gotta relax, doll.”

Your eyes narrowed, and you bit out, “I’m not your doll.”

He was definitely smiling now, and your hands fisted at the sight.

“Sans? Who are you talking—oh! You’re awake,” you heard Papyrus say, and you looked over to him with relief as the lights clicked on. He had a black apron on over his clothes, a sauce-covered spoon in his hand, and was smiling at you. You couldn’t help but smile back. “I hope Sans didn’t wake you up. You looked like you were out for the night!”

“Oh,” you said, shaking your head. “No, it’s okay. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep on your couch. Thanks for covering me up, though. It helped thaw me out, I think,” you said, giving a little laugh.

Papyrus’s brow bones pulled together. “Oh, that—” He glanced over at Sans, then smiled wider after a short pause. “That’s okay! So, uh, we were going to take you out tonight, but when you fell asleep, I figured it would be better if we just stayed in.”

“Oh—uh—no, don’t worry, that’s okay, I don’t want to impose on you guys,” you stuttered, heat creeping up your neck. You looked away, suddenly overly conscious of how terrible you must look. A whisper in your mind asked you exactly why you cared what you looked like, but you shoved it away. You weren’t even going to contemplate the idea that you might be nervous because you were a little attracted to Papyrus. Even though it would be completely understandable if you were, considering how nice he had been to you, and how well-respected he was, and how good he looked with his tie and shirt undone slightly, exposing a tantalising bit of collarbone—

Oh, _God_ , you _were_ attracted to him, weren’t you?

To a _skeleton_.

…what was _wrong_ with you?

You closed your eyes tight for just a moment, pinching your leg under the blanket. Nope, you were definitely awake. Well, great. At least you had ample motivation to leave the brothers’ house, now. You didn’t know what you’d do for food or shelter, but you would figure it out. You just couldn’t stick around when you couldn’t even trust yourself to not fall in love with a fucking _skeleton_ , or something else equally stupid. You wondered absently if the fall had scrambled your brain.

“Uh, are you okay?” Papyrus asked, and you flinched, looking back to him with wide eyes and a fake smile plastered on your face.

“Y-yeah! Sorry. Zoned out for a second. Guess I’m still tired. Did you say something?” you rambled, swallowing past the dryness in your throat.

Papyrus was giving you a concerned look, but didn’t say anything about how weird you were being. You absolutely wouldn’t look over at his brother, though. You had the feeling he would have known exactly what was wrong with you. He seemed way too astute for his own good. “Just that you shouldn’t be silly; you’ll stay with us.”

You stared at him, heart thudding. You really, _really_ shouldn’t let yourself agree to this. Staying with strangers never ended well, you knew. You’d been burned more times than you could count. But still, Papyrus seemed trustworthy, and you could ignore Sans even if he did want to be unbearable. “Are…are you sure? I really don’t want to be a bother.”

“is there a reason why you’re pretending to be shy, or are you just trying to make an impression on my brother?” Sans asked, and your whole body tensed. “wonder why that would be.” You looked at him sidelong, unimpressed. He smirked wide, his eyelids lowered cockily, and you had to pull back on the reins of your anger before you said something you’d regret. You didn’t know what his problem with you was, but you absolutely weren’t going to give him any ammunition by responding to his bad attitude. Papyrus cleared his throat uncomfortably as the silence grew tense and heavy between you and Sans.

“Ah, maybe we should just have dinner? I was coming in here to say it was nearly done, anyway,” Papyrus said, sounding as though he was attempting to keep the peace. You felt bad suddenly, even though you hadn’t done anything to cause the tension now palpable in the room.

You nodded, shifting uncomfortably. “Sounds great. But, um, is there somewhere I could maybe clean up a little?” You blushed, but refused to look away from Papyrus. Sans was a total ass for saying it as though he knew anything about you, but he wasn’t wrong—you _weren’t_ shy, even when you were embarrassed. You’d just wanted to make a certain impression on Papyrus, subconsciously. “I’m sorry, I’ve probably dirtied up your jacket pretty bad.”

“Don’t worry about that—ah, I’m sorry, I just realised we don’t even know your name.” You couldn’t believe your eyes when two spots of red appeared high on Papyrus’s cheekbones. He was _blushing_. Oh, God, it was so _adorable_. You had a strong urge to kiss him, then. It was so bizarre to you, the idea of kissing a skeleton, but you were certainly entertaining it pretty closely.

“Frisk.” Your voice was soft as you tried to disguise your sudden intense attraction, and you thought you did a pretty good job of it.

“Well, Miss Frisk! Don’t you worry about a thing, our home is your home now!” Papyrus exclaimed, smiling kindly. The butterflies in your stomach fluttered happily, and you could feel yourself practically glowing back at him. “If you’d like to clean up, there’s a shower upstairs. It’s just to the right and then straight ahead. There are towels in the closet beside it.”

You thanked him and trotted upstairs, not looking in Sans’s direction, for fear you’d slap him one on the way past. You found the bathroom easily enough, and grabbed a towel out of the closet, marvelling at how soft it was. You turned on the shower and stripped off your filthy clothes, wishing you could set them on fire so you’d never have to see them again. 

You stepped into the shower, and found that you couldn’t hold back a moan of pleasure. It was like heaven. You hadn’t bathed in properly hot water for a very long time, and you just stood under the shower spray for much longer than was strictly necessary, your eyes shut. You found several types and scents of soap tucked to the side in the shower, and you took quick advantage of them. The feeling of washing all the grit and grime off of your body and out of your hair was amazing. It was like physically washing away the memories of the village and the abuse they’d heaped on you.

Your throat was suddenly thick with emotion. You had lost so much to that village—nearly everything—and it was finally hitting you that you never had to go back. You were _free_ now. You shuddered violently and held yourself, leaning against the tiled wall as you tried to hold back the tears that threatened to overflow. You failed utterly, and had to bite your wrist to stifle the sound of your sobs. You cried until you were fully spent and the water was going cold, your skin puckered. You furiously scrubbed at your face once you’d composed yourself, hoping desperately that your breakdown wouldn’t be evident when you went back downstairs.

You turned off the shower and towelled off, feeling deeply clean, inside and out. Even though you were slightly upset that you had lost control over yourself, it had helped to cry. You felt lighter. You tried to wipe the fog from the mirror above the sink, but it remained clouded. You sighed and combed your fingers through your hair blind, instead, hoping you’d at least look more respectable now that you were clean. You had a brief moment of panic when you thought about putting your old clothes back on, and you threw that thought out immediately. Even though you were going to be mostly naked if you didn’t wear them, you’d rather be slightly uncomfortable in nothing but Papyrus’s jacket than put those clothes on again.

Hell, you’d rather go fully naked and parade around the whole town than put those clothes back on.

You had a quick inspection of Papyrus’s suit jacket to see how dirty you’d gotten it, and was pleased to see you hadn’t really made any mark on it. It even smelled nice, still—powdery with just a hint of the same smokey scent that had been on the blanket. You slipped it on and buttoned it up, biting your lip when you peered down at yourself. You were really pushing the boundaries of what acceptable clothing to wear in a stranger’s house was, but you didn’t exactly have any other options.

You peeked out the bathroom door to listen for any sounds, and as you did, you noticed a drag on the movement of the door. There, hanging on the handle, was a cream-coloured linen shirt and chocolate-brown trousers made of heavy cotton. A note was attached to them saying that they were for you to wear, if you wanted. You smiled at the handwriting, big and ostentatious, and you couldn’t help but think that it must be Papyrus’s. You took the clothes and retreated back into the bathroom, changing quickly. The shirt was fairly tight on your breasts and the trousers a bit snug on your hips, but they were still better than going downstairs in only a jacket. Especially when you figured Sans was going to be waiting with some kind of shitty remark for you.

You shook your head and decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, and try to get back on the right foot. If you were going to be actually living with the brothers, you didn’t want to have any bad blood there. You hated living with people when there was tension in the air. You shrugged back into Papyrus’s jacket and padded down the carpeted hallway, your confidence returning with each step. Maybe he just thought you were going to be a nuisance, someone who would just sit around and do nothing and expect the world in return. Or maybe he thought you weren’t sincere in your attraction to Papyrus, and he was just trying to look out for his brother. You could understand his attitude if it was either of those, definitely.

Well, whatever it was, you would do your best to be friendly with him, and hope he would loosen up about you. Because now that the carrot that was a fresh start had been dangled in front of you, you knew you had to take a chance. You wanted to make a new life down here under the surface if possible. You skipped down the stairs, determined to put out your feelers to see if that would actually be likely, or if you should make other plans before your hopes planted themselves too deeply.

You found Papyrus and Sans in the kitchen, sitting at a table and chatting quietly to each other, their heads close together. You cleared your throat to let them know you were there, and their heads snapped up to face you. You smiled brightly, your eyebrows pulling together slightly at the guilty look Papyrus had on his face. “Hey, thanks for the clothes, thought I was gonna be flashing you guys a little too much skin in just a jacket.”

“You’re very welcome, Miss Frisk,” Papyrus said, smiling back at you and gesturing for you to sit next to him, no trace of guilt in his eyes as he spoke. You wondered if you’d imagined it, and put it out of your thoughts. You sat in the chair across from Sans, accepting the glass of water Papyrus offered as he began piling pasta and salad on a plate. “I’m glad they fit; I figured Sans would be closer to your size than I would.”

You nearly choked on the water as you inhaled sharply. You’d had no idea you were wearing Sans’s clothes, but you realised how silly you were to not figure it out, considering how tall Papyrus was and the difference in styles. You forced yourself to swallow the bubble of air in your throat as your eyes met Sans’s, and you were shocked to see how he was watching you, no trace of a smile on his mouth. The lights of his eyes were back and practically blazing, and the intensity of his gaze sent a shock of interest straight through you. You felt betrayed by your body, but you still found it nearly impossible to break eye contact. You could barely even breathe. It was like he had complete control over you in that moment.

“she needs other clothes.” The way Sans spoke left no room for argument, and he looked away. The spell over you was broken as he did so, and you frowned, berating yourself soundly. You weren’t an animal; you weren’t going to be aroused just because someone paid attention to you. Especially when the person in question had proven to dislike you practically on sight. You didn’t really understand why you’d been so affected in that moment, but you swore to yourself it wouldn’t happen again. You had, after all, only just said you’d try to get on the right foot with Sans.

“What, why? She looks great in them!” Papyrus argued, and you turned back to him, eyes widening at his words. Was he just saying that to be nice, or was he actually feeling the same attraction you were? You watched Papyrus carefully, the strangeness between you and Sans instantly forgotten, and took the plate he offered, brushing your fingers against his on purpose, just to see how he reacted. You nearly gasped with delight when another faint blush appeared on his cheeks.

“because those are _mine_.”

Your sudden high emotions fell back to earth at Sans’s words, and you watched as he pulled out a cigarette and lit it with a match, taking a long drag. When he noticed you looking, he grinned slowly and exhaled a long trail of smoke that drifted over you. Spicy, earthy smoke that lined your lungs with heat. You inhaled deeply, recognising the smell from earlier. God, it was so heady. It was no wonder you were attracted to Papyrus, with him smelling like that. You hadn’t been a big smoker on the surface, mostly sharing with others while being social, but you could definitely see yourself enjoying one of those.

Especially considering how turned on you got at the thought of kissing Papyrus just after he’d taken a drag.

“Sans, _must_ you smoke at the table? We have company,” Papyrus sighed.

“I don’t mind,” you said quickly, fingering a thick lock of your hair absently. Your head was quickly becoming stuck in the clouds, thinking about what it would feel like to kiss Papyrus.

“Well, _I_ do. It’s such a dirty habit.”

You blinked over at him, your fantasy screeching to a halt. “Oh,” you said simply, looking down at your fingers worrying your hair. You glanced up at him through your fringe. “Do you—not smoke, then?”

Papyrus opened his mouth to respond, his brows lowered, but then stopped when he looked over at Sans. His teeth clicked shut and he cleared his throat, glancing coyly over at you. “Not—often.”

“Oh,” you said again, brightening slightly. “I’m the same. I only really smoked when I was around other smokers. More of a social thing, you know?”

“how about that,” Sans remarked flatly, leaning back in his chair and propping one of his ankles on the opposite knee, his eyes on Papyrus, who was practically grimacing as he turned to his plate, obviously trying to ignore his brother. When your stomach protested you ignoring the food sitting right in front of you, you set on it with enthusiasm while still attempting to have some manners, and the three of you ate in relative silence. It was absolutely delicious, and the more you ate, the better you felt, until you were practically bouncing with energy by the time Papyrus spoke again.

“So, uh, I was thinking—since you seem to be feeling a bit better—would you like to go out after dinner, after all?”

You had to stop yourself from squirming with excitement, and you didn’t even care that Sans was probably coming along with you. If he tried to ruin your fun, you would just shove his head in a toilet or something. You smiled wide, flicking your hair over your shoulder casually. “I would _love_ to.”

Papyrus gave the table a quick rap with his knuckles, his smile looking more genuine now. “Then it’s a date! We’ll show you how monsters have a good time, down in Underground.”

 


	3. The High Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk is taken out on the town.

You were buzzing with excitement by the time the brothers had walked you through town, your arm linked with Papyrus’s. You had given him back his jacket, and you couldn’t help but openly admire him in his full suit. When he grinned down at your obvious enthusiasm, you thought to yourself that you’d probably end up kissing him by the end of the night, if he’d let you.

“Well, someone’s excited!” Papyrus remarked as you kicked merrily at the snow on the ground.

You laughed and spun away from him, throwing your arms up as you skipped a few strides in front of both of them. When you turned to face them again, Sans had his eyes on everything but you, but Papyrus’s gaze was firmly caught in yours. You beamed back at him, and he laughed. “Of _course_ I’m excited!” you exclaimed, your elbows tucked into your sides as you wiggled slightly. You felt like you could fly. “I’m going out with my new friends, who happen to be _monsters_ , because they totally _exist_ , and I’m free!” You laughed again, throwing your arms out wide. “ _Free_!” The monsters milling about a building that looked like a cafe gave you strange looks, some of them amused, some of them very nervous. You held a hand over your mouth, giggling when Papyrus caught up and slid his arm back around yours. “Sorry.”

“looks like the human’s already a little tipsy,” Sans said, and you made a face at his back. He looked at you with a brow raised, and you gave him a sly smirk. He shook his head. “this is gonna be a cheap night if _food_ gets you high.”

“Who says I’m high?” you asked sweetly. “Maybe you’ve just never seen someone having a good time before? Makes sense, if you’re around.”

“ooh, don’t try to cut me too deep, doll,” Sans bit back, matching your smirk. “you don’t know what I’m made of.”

“Let me guess—bad jokes and the sadness of others?”

You were pleased when a laugh burst from Papyrus, once again sounding exactly as you’d imagined. You smiled up at him before he seemed to catch himself and throw an apologetic look to Sans. “Sorry, brother. But she’s not far off.”

Sans snorted, looking forward again, muttering under his breath. “at least it’s better than being made of spoiled meat and tears.”

You glared sidelong at him, your good mood almost ruined by his comment. What had he meant by that? Your stomach clenched. Had he heard you crying in the shower? You looked away from him quickly, a hot wash of shame colouring your face. You hadn’t wanted either of them to know of your breakdown, but it was so much worse to think of Sans standing on the other side of the bathroom door, sneering at your pain.

You mentally growled and shoved the thought aside. Whatever. Who cares if he heard you? It wasn’t going to ruin your mood, and you were absolutely not going to let him ruin your night. You were going to have fun for the first time in years, goddammit, and nothing was going to stop you.

“Sans, that was rude! You should apologise to Miss Frisk,” Papyrus scolded, patting your hand comfortingly.

“over my dead body,” Sans said in a sing-song voice. Your lip twisted with disgust.

“That’s fine with me, ‘cause _I_ wouldn’t be caught dead ‘over’ _you_.” You gave him a deliberate, vindictive smile. He returned it, his eyes narrowed at you.

“hey, looks like we have something in common, after all.”

“Alright, alright, let’s all be friends, hmm?” Papyrus interjected, and you narrowed your eyes back at Sans, willing him to look away first. He just continued staring. “C’mon, children, time to be adults now. We’re going in the big boys’ club.”

Your curiosity caught you off-guard, and you looked away before you’d even thought, turning to see where Papyrus had taken you. A large, two-storey brick building stood before you, crawling with cavorting monsters. You closed your eyes for a second when you realised you’d lost the silent war between you and Sans, but you brushed it aside. Papyrus was right—even though you wanted badly to get one up on Sans, it was pretty childish. You glanced surreptitiously over at the short skeleton, feeling a little silly for your outburst, and found him still watching you, his face devoid of the ire he’d had before. You mentally sighed. Well. So much for trying to get off on the right foot, you supposed. There was just something about Sans that brought out the nastiest side of you, and all it wanted to do was bring him back down to earth where the rest of the plebeians lived.

Maybe…if you reached out to him with a truce, he would respond better? You didn’t know how well it would go, trying to be nice to him when he’d only been hostile to you so far, but you would give him one more chance. He couldn’t be all bad, right? No one was all bad.

You followed Papyrus into the dark, smokey club, Sans coming behind you, and your face broke out in a wide smile before you could stop yourself. It looked _perfect_ in there, with a long mahogany bar wrapping around one entire wall, facing a sea of round tables that ringed a clearing obviously meant for dancing. There was a stage at the far end of the club, a band playing something soft and atmospheric for the patrons below. The lighting was dim and private, barely even illuminating the large leather couches that crowded against the corner nearest you. It was absolutely chock full of monsters, and when the three of you entered, everyone seemed to turn and stare at you.

You were ready to write it off as your own conceit, but then several monsters stood and skidded up to you and Papyrus, looking absolutely voracious with their attention. A lot of them stared openly at you, but the majority were too busy fawning on Papyrus to bother with you. You watched the way he handled all of them with grace, using what you’d come to realise was his public voice, never neglecting any single monster who vied for his attention. Eventually, though, the crowd grew too large for the three of you to even enter the club, and you felt a small touch at your elbow. 

You looked over to see Sans waiting in the shadows next to the doorway, and he crooked his head to indicate you should follow him. You hesitated for a moment, looking to Papyrus, but when he smiled and shooed you cheerfully, you shrugged and followed Sans over to one of the couches tucked into the darkest corner. The other monsters already seated seemed to suddenly find somewhere else to be when you approached, and you frowned. Surely you weren’t that off-putting?

Sans flopped down on a couch, settling in with his arms crooked up on the back. You made to sit in the chair across from him, but stopped when he raised his brow bones at you, smirking knowingly. You sighed at the inherent challenge, but sat next to him nevertheless. You tried to sit in such a way that you wouldn’t be leaning against his arm, but it was nearly impossible with how cozy the couch was. Even though you were twisted with your back against the armrest, your shoulder was still resting against his hand. You felt extremely awkward about it at first, but when it became clear he wasn’t going to make anything of it, you relaxed. Sinking back into the couch, you happily monster-watched while waiting for Papyrus.

“you want a drink, kid?”

You glanced at Sans absently. “Are you offering to buy me a drink?” you asked with a chuckle, the idea striking you as funny somehow.

“heh, ‘course not. just asking so papyrus can grab one for both of us. it’ll save him a trip.” Sans threw a lazy smile your way, and you couldn’t help but laugh with disbelief. You shook your head.

“Sure, I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

“you sure ‘bout that?” Sans asked, not missing a beat. When you raised your eyebrows in question, he continued with, “i don’t exactly drink lemonade, sweetheart. might be a bit rough on your human body.”

You gave him a flat look. “Try me.”

He shrugged lightly, and turned to catch Papyrus’s eye, holding up two fingers casually, and Papyrus nodded his understanding, turning back to the thinning group of monsters. You watched them all nod enthusiastically, and they followed Papyrus to the bar. Leaning his elbow against the edge, he gave the crowd a winning smile. You couldn’t bring yourself to look away from him, caught on how easy he chatted with everyone, confidence practically dripping off of him. You fiddled with a loose button on your shirt, worrying your lip. 

You wondered if there was a way you could casually bring up Papyrus with Sans without fighting with him. You knew it probably seemed to him like you had gotten attached impossibly fast, but you couldn’t help it. You had always been that way, especially with confident people. You were inexorably drawn to them, and you’d always just leapt into a relationship, romantic or not. It had gotten you in some bad situations before, but over the years you had learned to listen to your instincts. They had rarely steered you wrong.

“so,” Sans began, and you snapped out of your reverie to face him. He wasn’t looking at you, but rather out at the monsters on the dance floor, their bodies pressed close as they slow-danced. “what do you think of my brother?”

You blinked, then laughed under your breath. “Why, are you gonna hook us up?”

“maybe,” he said, wiping the smile off your face. He cocked his head slightly, the lights of his eyes sliding over to meet your shocked gaze. He looked deadly serious. “depends on what you want from him.”

“I—” You stumbled over the words that pressed at your throat. You wanted to say that you didn’t want anything from Papyrus—that you were just attracted to him, and you wanted to see if you could hit it off, given the chance. But that sounded bad to you, somehow, and you had the notion that that wouldn’t be enough for Sans. Still, you figured it was better to be honest than to try to play up and lose face if caught out. “To be perfectly honest, I’m just kind of hot for him,” you rushed out, then heard what you’d said, and laughed out loud. “Sorry. I know it’s probably awful to hear that about your brother.”

Sans shrugged, and you had the stray thought that the smile on his face seemed to be the first genuine smile you’d seen him turn on you. It was actually kind of…sweet. Your stomach flopped at the thought that you might actually be able to make friends with him, after all. He looked as though he was going to respond, but just then, a bunny-like monster dressed as a waiter came up to you holding a tray with two tumblers filled with a honey-coloured liquid and ice cubes, setting them down on the long table in front of you with a smile for both of you. You couldn’t help but notice the smile for Sans had the hint of flirtation about it, though, and you watched him for any reaction as you took a sip of your drink. He was stoic as ever, though, simply thanking the waiter and watching until they had left before turning back to you. You felt a buzz of energy heading straight for your chest, warming you from the inside and you licked your lips, putting the drink back down. 

“not really. y’can’t help who you want,” Sans said, his voice quiet and thoughtful. You grinned lopsidedly at him, and he looked away, laughing once, softly. “as much as we’d like to, sometimes.” An easy, comfortable silence settled between you, and you found yourself relaxing further, his hand slipping into your hair, his fingertips resting against your neck. You shivered at the unexpected contact, but didn’t move away once you saw that Sans hadn’t seemed to even notice. You hadn’t at all been shy with human contact, as the culture you’d grown up in didn’t really understand the concept of personal space, but you didn’t know if monsters were different. You hoped that because Papyrus had been alright with holding your hand and linking your arm that you weren’t horribly offending Sans by staying in the same position. 

Not that you would really care, at this point. Even though he was obviously trying to be nicer at the moment, he had been a real shit to you otherwise. If he was offended, _he_ could move. He was, after, the one invading _your_ space.

“shit,” you heard him say, and you blinked lazily, your attention brought back to reality. He was holding an unlit cigarette in his fingertips, staring down at it as though it had betrayed him. “forgot my matches. damn, i’ll have to go get some.”

Acting on instinct, you reached out a hand and snapped your fingers, the tiny flame of your magic appearing between your thumb and forefinger, hovering just in front of his face. He was frozen, and you could hear his bones crack with tension, the sound just like someone stretching themselves in the morning. You smiled playfully at his wide eyes, still reclined. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

Sans shook his head slowly, his eyes moving between your eyes and the fire flickering excitedly at your fingertips. “not scared, just—surprised. humans don’t have magic.”

You giggled. “What? Sure they do.”

“uh— _no_ —they don’t.”

You shook your head, waving your fingers slightly to indicate he should light his cigarette. He did so, but slowly, his eyes bright and wary on you. You smirked. “Hey, which of us has been up there recently?” When he brought the cigarette to his mouth and inhaled deeply, the tip lighting up invitingly, you continued. “Trust me, there are people with more magic than this parlour trick. I’m pretty much only good for this.”

Sans closed his eyes and leaned his head back, clearly enjoying the puff he’d taken. He exhaled slowly, the smoke drifting from his teeth and nasal cavity, as though he was reluctant to let it go. You leaned forward subconsciously, breathing in the intoxicating scent. You couldn’t seem to get enough of it, and when he opened his eyes to see you closer, he looked between you and the cigarette in his hand. You saw his pupils flash bright once, almost too quick for you to notice, and then he smiled slowly. “you wanna try?”

You hesitated, but only for a second. You were intensely curious about it, and you were not very good at resisting your own curiosity. “Yes, please,” you mumbled, reaching your hand out. He pulled his hand away from yours, though, giving a minute shake of his head. You paused, your hand dropping to your lap again, your eyebrows raised. Before you could ask why he’d even offered if he wasn’t going to let you, he held the cigarette up to you, close to your mouth but just far enough that you couldn’t reach. Your heart began to pound, slowly at first, but when you locked eyes with him and leaned forward to wrap your lips around the filter and inhale, it felt as though there was a horse’s hooves racing against your ribcage. He watched you with the same intensity as he had before, and you knew the rush of adrenaline had very little to do with the cigarette.

“is that good?” Sans asked you, his voice low and rough, and you exhaled, the burn in your lungs sending another fizz of energy through you. You just nodded, not trusting yourself with words at the moment.

“Hey, there kids, are we having fun?” Papyrus’s voice broke through your clouded thoughts, and your eyes snapped up to where he stood over you. You choked on the bit of smoke left in your lungs, and you had to lean over and cough hard against your arm, your eyes watering. “Oh dear, are you okay, Miss Frisk? Did I sneak up on you?”

You nodded. “I’m fine, you just gave me a shock.” You smiled weakly up at him, reaching for your drink and taking a sip to distract yourself from thinking about what had just happened between you and Sans. You relished the warmth it left in your throat, going down so much smoother than human alcohol. It tasted of sweetness and cinnamon, reminding you of a spiced whiskey. You took a bigger gulp, humming with appreciation.

“Has Sans been bugging you without me to keep him in line?” Papyrus asked, his hands tucked in his trouser pockets as he threw a sly smile to his brother. You looked between them and slouched awkwardly, as far from Sans as possible.

“careful, bro, you’re sounding kind of jealous,” Sans remarked, his voice back to its usual flippant tone. He gave a scoffing laugh. “i wouldn’t worry. ‘miss frisk’ only has eyes for you.” You shot him a fiery, burn-in-hell glare, but he didn’t acknowledge you at all.

“Be that as it may, you aren’t to bother her,” Papyrus said, his voice friendly but commanding. A wave of tingles down your spine caught you by surprise; you liked him talking like that _a lot_. It made you want to do something he wouldn’t like, just to get him to look at you in the same way. Sans only response was to cock his head slightly. “So you’ll have to play nice, because I need you to look after her a bit longer, while I take care of some…business.”

You nearly sighed with disappointment, but the look of regret Papyrus had for you made you feel a bit better. He clearly didn’t want to leave. You opened your mouth to tell him you’d be fine, but Sans cut you off.

“whatever you say.”

Papyrus looked unconvinced, but turned to leave with a quick nod, anyway, before hesitating and looking back at the both of you over his shoulder. “Seriously. Be good.”

“c’mon, bro,” Sans said, a mischievous grin pulling at his mouth. “we’re just two fully grown, responsible adults. how much trouble could we get into?”

Papyrus said nothing to that, only rolling his eyes and walking away with a group of ominously large, burly monsters. You watched them leave until they’d disappeared up a flight of stairs, before swinging on Sans.

“What the actual fuck was that?” you snapped, your hand itching to punch him somewhere it would hurt. You figured there was no point, though, considering he had no muscles or skin. You’d probably end up hurting yourself worse than him. Typical.

Sans shrugged casually. “what?”

“You know what,” _you dickhead_ , you wanted to add.

He opened his eyes wide, obviously trying to look innocent. “i thought you wanted me to hook you up with him? well there you go, he knows you like him, now.”

You made a noise of disgust, flopping back against the couch childishly, crossing your legs in annoyance. “You made me sound like some kind of schoolgirl with a crush.”

“sorry, next time i’ll be sure to specify that you want to fuck him raw. happy?” Sans said, taking a quick drag, his voice flat and uninterested.

“I will be if I get to,” you muttered under your breath, and when Sans shot you a look, you snorted. “How is it even going to work? Sex with a skeleton monster and a human, I mean.”

“well, you see, when two people love each other very much, there’s a special kind of hug they give one another, until they get very happy. sometimes they get so happy that they shout each other’s names and say swear words,” Sans deadpanned, looking out at the crowd of monsters dancing to a more upbeat song. When you just gave him an unamused look in response, he turned back to you. “i’m not talking to you about sex with my brother, alright?”

You grinned toothily. “I thought you said you didn’t mind. What was it again? I ‘can’t help who I want?’”

“yeah, but I sure as hell don’t have to talk about it.” He shook his head. “listen, i’m not your dad. you’ll just have to figure it out when the time comes.”

“But _Daddy_ , I need your help or I might do something naughty with the big bad skeleton man,” you joked. When Sans threw you a horrified, wide-eyed look, you cracked up with laughter. “What, you don’t like the pet name?” At Sans’s soft growl of warning, you laughed even harder. “Okay, okay. Sorry.” 

You leaned your head back against the couch, your arms folded loosely against your stomach as you stared up at the ceiling, a lazy smile on your lips. It felt surprisingly good to talk to Sans like this, and you were happy you’d given him another chance. You were really starting to like him. “So,” you said after a stretch of easy silence. “If you won’t tell me how sex works, will you tell me what Papyrus meant by telling you to look after me?” You rolled your head to the side to face Sans, your hair brushing against his hand. 

He seemed to be considering how to respond. “i’m not sure what you want me to say.”

You shrugged a shoulder. “Well, it’s not like I’m a kid who needs a babysitter. I’m a big girl.”

“and?”

“And I don’t need anybody to keep me safe, or whatever. This place isn’t exactly rough.”

Sans’s brow bones rose. “you can’t be that naïve.”

You scowled. “I’m not naïve in the slightest.”

“oh, yeah? alright, then, miss badass, why don’t you tell me how many monsters in this room would kill you in a heartbeat, given the chance?” Sans asked, his patronising tone raising your hackles. You sat up straighter, rising to his challenge, looking around the room for signs of suspicious attention or activity. You couldn’t spot anything particularly alarming, though, but you did see one squat, wide, shifty-eyed monster hanging out alone in the corner, staring at you with hungry eyes. 

You gestured to them. “That guy over there looks pretty desperate. If I had something he wanted, he’d probably shiv me.”

Sans followed the direction of your eyes, and burst into abrupt, raucous laughter. “jerry? you think _jerry_ could kill you? fuck, the only reason _he_ isn’t dead already ’s’cause no one wants to get close enough to do it.” Your lips thinned slightly, and Sans shook his head, sobering himself. “no, doll, the answer i was looking for is: all of them. every single monster in this room knows exactly where you are, what you’re doing, and most importantly, who you’re with.”

You swept your gaze over the monster in the room again, sceptical at first. The closer you inspected the faces of the monsters, though, you started to see the tiny glances in your direction, the heavy tension in some of them, the fake smiles plastered on their faces when they caught you watching. Unease settled in your heart, and you turned back to Sans, your lips twisted as you worried at your inner lip.

“the first thing you need to learn about Underground is: it’s dangerous down here.” Sans’s eyes were nearly fully dark, now.

You swallowed reflexively. “I’m well acquainted with danger. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“see, i might have believed that if i couldn’t feel you shaking when you say it,” Sans said, his eyes brightening again, and he gave you a quick, emotionless smile to cut off your biting response. “no, i get it. the way you came here…you weren’t exactly living the high life, were you? but no matter what your life was up there, you won’t understand what you’re up against now.” 

He took a slow, deliberate drag off his cigarette, and you were sad to see him stub it out between his fingers. Even though you’d had a weird moment with him because of it, you’d wanted another taste. You reached for your drink, instead, not wanting to ask him for a cigarette of your own. “So tell me. What’s so dangerous about this mountain that you feel it’s necessary to watchdog me?”

Sans puffed out a smoky laugh. “is it not enough that everyone wants you dead?” When you shrugged casually, he laughed again. “huh, must be worse up there than i thought. no wonder you were so hyper before.” He took up his own drink and tasted it carefully at first, before downing it in one go. You watched the bit of vertebrae you could see at the open neck of his shirt, but no liquid splashed through. Weird. “okay. murderous intent not enough for you. okay. try overcrowding. starvation.” He ran his fingertip over the top of his glass, staring down at the melting ice inside. “Despair.”

Part of you wanted to tell him that those things were pretty par for the course on the surface, as well, but something held you back. Oddly enough, you didn’t want him to feel like you were belittling the situation in the mountain. Because you weren’t. Even though it happened above as well didn’t mean you weren’t sad about it happening to others. Especially since you’d started to care about the skeleton brothers, already. The thought of them going through what you’d lived made you angry deep in your heart. Nobody should have to live with that kind of life.

He scraped a skeletal hand over his face, dropping his glass on the table again and giving you a lopsided smile. “it wasn’t always like this.”

You thought about that, memories of the surface before the war like a knife between your ribs. You pushed them aside, focusing instead on Sans’s words.

“it happened slow. too slow to really notice. people were forced to move out of the capital, one family at a time. then the other towns were full. no big deal, we’ll just build more. suddenly—too late to fix, too late to plan—there was no more room. too many monsters, too little resources, and too little food down in this special hell of ours.” 

You wanted to put your hand on his shoulder and tell him you knew exactly what he’d gone through, but it felt wrong coming from you. You were just a stranger. What good would it do if you had empathy? “things got…bad. people lost their goddamn minds when the news spread that the core was slowly losing its energy, too. 

that was the last straw, really. rioting started in the capital, where the crowding was the worst, and spread to the other regions. it was like everyone had just—snapped. the king shut himself away when a mob tried to tear down the castle. the queen had left a long time ago. the monsters had no one to lead them, and with such a crisis tearing everyone apart, making them crazy…well, let’s just say that the population issue wasn’t so much of an issue soon after that.”

You looked away from the emptiness in his expression, feeling as though you’d caught him undressed, somehow. It was too private for you to see. “papyrus and i, we lived in the capital at the time. it was…well. i’d rather not talk about it.” Sans’s hand gripped the arm of the couch, and you heard his bones cracking with tension.

“one day, we realised that someone had to do something. if the monsters were left leaderless, soon enough there’d only be dust under this rock. the only problem with that was, the only thing that anyone respected anymore was power. if you wouldn’t back up your demands with raw, obvious power, then no one would listen. but if you could, and would, respect soon followed. it wasn’t easy. it took a lot of sacrifice, and it wasn’t exactly perfect even once it happened, but finally, something resembling order was restored.” Sans heaved a sigh, his bones rattling quietly. “it may not look like it, but everyone here is much happier now than they were even just six months ago.”

You inhaled slowly through your nose, wrapping your head around everything he’d told you. It honestly—tragically—sounded nearly identical to what had happened on the surface. The only difference was, no one had ever stepped up to lead once the war had wiped out all the other leaders. There was only chaos, and the law of the land, which was kill or be killed. You had been lucky enough to find some sane places during your years of constant travel, but they had never lasted long. Someone would raid the peace, either from the outside or someone would eventually decide they’d rather not share the meagre rations with everyone, and then you’d have to fight to survive long enough to run away. You’d never given up, though. You’d always hoped that the new place was going to be a proper home, a sanctuary.

It was that kind of naïve thinking that got you where you were now.

“No,” you said, your mind swirling. “I understand. I may not have seen how it was, but if I can come here and sit with you just having a good time, without seeing any sign of what happened before, then I am incredibly impressed.” You sat for a moment, staring down at the dripping condensation on your empty tumbler. You breathed out a laugh suddenly, scrubbing at your face and running your fingertips through your hair, tossing it back. You smiled ruefully. “God, no wonder everyone loves Papyrus so much.”

Sans gave you a blank stare. “what?”

“You know, since he basically brought peace back down here. It’s obvious now, why everyone respects him.” You grinned to yourself. “Of course I’d manage to like someone like him.”

Sans just continued staring at you, before he seemed to shake himself and look away. “oh, uh, yeah. yeah, papyrus sure is something.”

You nodded absently, your mind mostly on Papyrus now, but there was one thing that didn’t really make sense to you. “Sans,” you started, and his eyes turned back to you. “Why didn’t everyone just leave the mountain, once things started getting bad?”

Sans gave you another blank stare, before giving a snorting laugh. “wow. i figured since you’d heard of Underground, that you would know. i thought it was weird that you told me to, uh, what was it, ‘point you to the exit.’” He cracked up, laughing so hard that liquid collected at the sides of his eyes. You just watched him with raised eyebrows, not understanding the joke. When he noticed, he managed to calm down enough to say between snickers, “oh, doll, there _is_ no exit. we’re all trapped down here. and now you are too.” His grin was vicious as you froze. “welcome to hell, honey. you’ll learn to hate it as much as we do.”

Your mind raced, trying to think back on everything anyone had ever told you about the mountain, and the myths of the monsters underneath. You’d never actually believed the village elder when they’d said the monsters were imprisoned. But…if Sans was saying they were trapped, his voice that of a man who had given up on escape long ago, then…it must be true. There was no reason for him to lie, that you could see. 

So then…the freedom you’d thought you’d finally had…

It was just a lie.

You began to feel the same panic you’d felt while living in the village, but then suddenly, a laugh burst out of you. It seemed to surprise Sans just as much as it did you, and you laughed again because of the surprise. The laughs kept coming, slightly manic but mostly just full of appreciation for the irony of escaping one prison and falling into another. Eventually you were doubled over, tears leaking from your eyes from the great belly laughs that rose from you. When you saw that Sans was chuckling, too, you laughed even harder. 

You ended up getting so light-headed that you had to flop back, your head hitting Sans’s arm again, and you giggled as you met his eyes. Once you had worn yourself out fully and had wiped the tear tracks from your cheeks, another silence fell in your corner. You found yourself just smiling tiredly at Sans, who returned it with a crooked, genuine smile of his own, and you became acutely aware of how his hand cupped the back of your head, his fingers tangled in your hair. He was so close. You could just lean forward slightly, and you’d be able to—

“listen,” he said, his voice light but still serious. “you may be stuck down here with a bunch of monsters and skeletons, but it doesn’t mean you can’t have some fun. you wanna go dance?”

You snorted, raising your eyebrows, still smiling. “Seriously?”

“yeah, why not? you won’t embarrass yourself much. i’ve seen the way you walk. you’ll be good at it.”

You gaped at him before giving an incredulous laugh. “It’s not _me_ I’m worried about.”

“you think i can’t dance?” Sans asked, and you just gave him an expectant look. He crooked his head, grinning devilishly. “c’mon. just try me.”

You studied his face for a moment before shrugging and saying, “Yeah, okay. I’ll try anything once.”

Sans stood and held a hand out to you, and you took it, allowing him to pull you to your feet. “probably better not to say stuff like that anymore, kid. some of the shit down here would melt your face off.”

Your eyes were caught on your clasped hands as he guided you through the tables and out to the dance floor. His hand bones were so soft against your skin. “Yeah, yeah. You said that about the drinks, as well, and I’m perfectly fine.” You were annoyed to stumble just as you spoke, but Sans caught you with a hand at your back, pulling you close. You chuckled, resting your arm against his shoulder and letting  your hand dangle against his shoulder blade. “Okay, so maybe I’m a little less than perfectly fine.”

“or maybe you’re just _falling_ for me.”

You snorted, shaking your head as he directed you into a swaying dance, the rhythm of the music finding its way into your bones. “Wow, that was terrible.”

“hey, that one wasn’t so bad. i’ve got worse.”

“Oh, my God, please don’t use them. I don’t think I could handle it,” you said, laughing playfully as he spun you around. You were actually impressed with how well he danced. You’d have never guessed, just by looking at him.

“why, do you not trust yourself to resist me?” Sans asked, pulling you back in close, your bodies pressed together as you moved your hips against him. There was an obvious tension growing between you, but you tried to laugh it off. You could flirt without letting yourself get too carried away.

“Who says I’m trying to?”

Sans lifted a brow bone. “so what happened to wanting papyrus?” 

You leaned down, sliding your cheek against his and whispering, “He can come, too.”

Sans’s head snapped back and he looked up at you, his wide eyes searching your face. “you’re joking.”

You called his bluff for another few moments before your façade broke and you snickered. “Busted.”

Sans shook his head, the hint of a smile on his mouth. “you’re drunker than i thought if you’re suggesting stuff like that. you better not puke all over my clothes.”

“I’m really not,” you insisted. “And if you didn’t want your clothes getting dirty, then you shouldn’t have given them to me to wear and then asked me to dance.”

Sans looked away. “what’d’you mean? papyrus took those without asking.”

You chuckled. “Okay, buddy.”

“what, you think I’m attracted to you or something?” Sans scoffed back at you, and you grinned. You’d gotten him, finally. You’d found something that got under his, ah, proverbial skin just as much as he managed to get under yours. You ignored the little voice that said maybe you didn’t actually want to see what happened if you pushed him.

“Hey, I didn’t say anything about that, but if you wanna confess, I’m all ears,” you said, trying to catch his eye, but he wouldn’t look at you. You giggled and spoke in a singsong voice. “C’mon, Sans, just say it! You wa-ant me! You want to take me back to your place and kiss me and see what I can do to rattle those bones of yours—”

“what if I did it right here?” He interrupted your teasing, his eyes suddenly burning into yours. Your laughter trailed off, his tense body language sending cues to your own body, and you both stopped dancing. His arm was tight against your back and he was gripping your hand in his, and for some reason you were finding it difficult to breathe.

“Did what?” you asked, trying to keep up the humor. Sans didn’t take the bait, though. He wasn’t even smiling anymore. When he spoke, his casual tone juxtaposed strongly with his piercing gaze.

“what would you do if I kissed you, right now?”

You searched his face for signs of the joke he surely meant by that. You couldn’t see any. You hesitated fully, your mind no longer giddy, and it froze when you tried to think of how to respond.

“Sans…”

Before you could even consider what you were about to say, Papyrus’s voice interrupted your concentration, loud and demanding. “HI AGAIN, GUYS! BOY DO YOU LOOK LIKE YOU’RE HAVING A GOOD TIME!”

You and Sans sprang apart as though someone had dropped a snake between you. Your face flushed with guilt as you looked up at Papyrus, who was dusting off his suit with wide, slightly manic eyes. 

“Uh—”

“THAT IS FANTASTIC,” Papyrus cut you off, turning to smile widely at Sans. “UNFORTUNATELY, IT’S TIME TO GO.”

Your stomach clenched. Fuck, he had definitely seen you and Sans dancing and flirting, and now he was going to think you didn’t like him. God, sometimes you were just so—you stopped mid-thought when you noticed how Sans was grinning at Papyrus, clearly attempting not to laugh.

“hey, bro, how’d your business meeting go? suit’s lookin’ a bit dusty, there.”

Papyrus narrowed his eyes dangerously at Sans, his voice clipped and tight. “And it might get _dustier_ if we stick around. You want that to happen, Sans?”

Sans snorted and shook his head, laughing to himself as he pulled out another cigarette, gesturing at Papyrus. “alright, c’mon, let’s get out of here.”

You made a small noise of disappointment and Papyrus’s eyes caught yours, softening. “Don’t worry, Miss Frisk. We don’t have to go home just yet, but we can’t stay here.” He held out a gloved hand to you, and you took it, noting the light coating of dust. You didn’t mind, as you were too busy trying not to blush at the whisper in your head comparing the differences between the two brothers.

As Papyrus led you to the exit of the club, you asked, “Do you have somewhere else in mind?”

Papyrus glanced back at you with a charming smile. “Anywhere you like, darling.”

“It’s still so early!” you exclaimed as you burst through the doors out into the icy air, broken glass crunching under your boots. When Sans caught up and held his cigarette up for you to light, you obliged. Glancing up as you did so, you noticed a broken and very dusty window at the club’s upper floor. Huh. You were pretty sure that hadn’t been that way when you arrived, but you put it out of your mind. “I say we just see where the night takes us.”

“I thought you might say that,” Papyrus remarked, sounding amused. His eyes were on Sans, now, and you looked back down to see him smiling at you in a way that made you think you’d just signed yourself up for a long night of debauchery. Perfect.

The brothers gestured for you to take the lead, and you set off, a confident swagger in your step with both of them at your side. If this was hell, you were determined to do as the demons do.


	4. The Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk goes on a date

You woke with your mouth tasting of ash, laying on a stranger’s bed in a stranger’s room, with no recollection of how you ended up there. It wasn’t exactly a new experience for you, but what was different was the fact that you were alone in bed, and still fully clothed. You sat up and groaned, holding a hand to your head when it pounded in protest of your movement. You squinted through bleary eyes around the well-decorated room that was as empty of personality as any hotel. You couldn’t immediately remember anything from the night before, and the room held no clues to jog your memory. Where the hell were you?

Then you heard movement just outside the door, and you gasped, survival instincts flaring into overdrive. Had you been drugged and taken somewhere? Why would they have just left you to sleep it off, if so? Had you been mistaken for someone else—someone who could be ransomed for? With eyes wide and heart pounding, you rooted around for something to use as a weapon, but there was nothing to be found, and the door handle was already turning. You ran and positioned yourself in the corner behind the door, body tense and ready to either fight or run—whichever gave you better odds of living through this.

“Miss Frisk? I heard a noise, are you okay—oh, what—where—”

You froze mid-kick, your foot stopping just short of the back of Papyrus’s knee, and you lost your balance as you suddenly remembered where you were, and what had happened. You weren’t on the surface anymore. There weren’t enemies around every corner. You absolutely should not beat Papyrus down. You careened into his back, clinging to him as you both tumbled down, Papyrus crying out a loud ‘gack!’ as you landed on him and his head slammed against the side of the bed.

You squeaked, mortified, and rolled off of him as soon as you’d gotten your bearings. “Oh, my God, Papyrus—!” You held a hand on his shoulder as he sat up and shook his head dizzily, looking a bit dazed. “I’m so sorry!”

“Miss Frisk? Why were you waiting behind the door to accost me?” he asked, blinking and holding a hand to his head.

“I didn’t mean to, I was just—”

“bro? are you okay, i heard a big crash—” You looked up with horrified eyes to see Sans standing with sleepy eyes in the doorway, wearing blue flannel bottoms and an unbuttoned flannel top, his ribcage, torso, and part of his hips exposed. Your face coloured when you realised you were staring, and you looked away hurriedly. “oh. hey, sorry for interrupting, i’ll just leave you guys to it—”

“Shut up, Sans,” Papyrus sighed, pulling his hand away from his head. You gasped softly when you saw a thin, but definite crack running from the crown of his head down his forehead. Papyrus noticed how wide your eyes were, and blinked. “That bad, huh?”

You grimaced. “I am so, so sorry.”

Sans shuffled up where you both knelt, leaning over and inspecting Papyrus’s wound. He touched his brother’s skull lightly as Papyrus looked up at him, and you couldn’t help but notice how sweet they looked together like that. With a snort, Sans knocked a knuckle on Papyrus’s head, saying, “eh, he’s had worse. it’s just a scratch, bro.”

You breathed out a sigh of relief. “Really? It looks—really bad.”

Sans glanced over at you before turning to leave. “we’re not as weak as humans, kid. we don’t break so easily.” He threw over his shoulder as he exited, “even when crazy humans try to smash our heads in.”

You scowled in the direction Sans had left before turning back to Papyrus, grimacing again with apology. “Papyrus, I really didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I believe you, Miss Frisk. Don’t worry about me, I’ll heal,” he said, his voice jolly as he stood, brushing off his trousers. In contrast to his brother, he was impeccably turned out as always, in straight grey wool trousers and matching waistcoat, with a pale blue shirt and maroon tie.  He held a hand out to help you stand, and the touch of his bare bones made your heart flutter. His hands practically dwarfed yours, even without muscles or skin. He grinned bashfully down at you. “Are you okay? That was some tackle you’ve got. Probably didn’t feel great to fall on bones, though.”

Your mind conjured up an image to fit his words that wasn’t quite as innocent as what he’d meant. You wondered briefly, in a panic, if it was actually a memory from the night before, but you didn’t think you’d forget something like sex with a skeleton in a hurry. “I’m fine. Got a pounding headache and I’m a little wobbly, but that’s definitely more to do with last night than this morning. I can hardly remember anything.”

Papyrus laughed, the sound of it making you smile even as it pierced your ears and struck directly against your headache. You didn’t mind at all. “I bet! I’ve never seen a human put back monster drinks like that without collapsing.”

You shrugged lightly, pleased you’d at least made an impression, even if it wasn’t necessarily one you’d meant to make. “I guess that’s why I feel like a train hit me this morning, then? Monster magic? Normally, I wouldn’t even have broken a sweat having that many drinks.”

Papyrus nodded. “Everything we eat down here is made of magic.”

You sighed, your stomach growling fiercely. “That’s a damn shame, ‘cause I would actually kill for something made entirely of grease right now.”

Papyrus seemed to hesitate at your words, before throwing you a charming smile. “Well, if you’d like, there _is_ a place we could go for some breakfast. It isn’t— _nice_ —but it does serve greas—burgers!”

You felt faint with hunger at the thought. “That would be _great_ , Papyrus. Oh, I could kiss you right now.”

“Oh! Ah, you do not have to do that.” He gestured for you to take the lead, and you padded out of the bedroom, realising you must have stayed in a guest bedroom. He coughed awkwardly just as you reached the steps downstairs and Sans appeared from behind a door, saying in a sly way,

“don’t you mean, again?”

“Sans!” Papyrus snapped as you stumbled, landing hard on the next step down, adrenaline shooting through you as you almost fell. 

“What?” You clung to the bannister for a second even after you got your balance, your knuckles going white. You slowly looked back at Papyrus at the top of the staircase, and Sans, who was leaning against his room’s doorjamb, looking pleased as punch with himself. “What do you mean, again?”

Papyrus held his hands palm up. “Miss Frisk, don’t worry, nothing happened, really!”

“if by nothing you mean she was all over you, then yeah, sure, nothing happened.”

You looked between the brothers before sighing with disgust and turning to continue down the stairs. You’d actually kissed Papyrus, and you couldn’t even remember it. Better yet, Sans had apparently been watching. You had an odd, stray thought that wondered if you had done it that way on purpose, to try to get a reaction out of Sans. You shook your head to clear it of such a ridiculous thought. You weren’t like that. You would never try to get between siblings, and even though you had been joking the night before about Sans wanting you, you could tell that it _did_ bother him in some way, you liking Papyrus. You wondered if you should sit down with him again and assure him that you weren’t going to come between them just because you wanted to get laid.

“Whatever,” you said, waving a hand and locating your boots. You slid your feet inside and stomped them on, stretching and yawning. “’S’pretty typical of me, to be honest. Next time, just tell me to fuck off, Papyrus,” you laughed, sticking your hands in your trouser pockets. You wished you had something to change into, but you absolutely weren’t going to ask for anything else. You didn’t even have any way of paying them back for what they’d done for you already.

Papyrus and Sans shared a quick look before Papyrus descended the stairs and threw his jacket on over his suit. He looked incredibly sexy in his new suit, but you decided to ease off on the obvious flirting. It was becoming clear to you that Papyrus wasn’t exactly comfortable with it. You thought he was probably more of a flowers-and-romance guy, but you had absolutely no idea how to act in such a way. Romance wasn’t exactly a big thing, where you came from. People loved each other deeply, all the time—in fact, the war had seemed to make people truly appreciate those they loved—but there had never really been time for romance.

You would have to just follow Papyrus’s lead, you supposed. You weren’t even sure he _was_ into you, to be honest. It seemed as though he wasn’t opposed to the idea, but maybe that was just wishful thinking on your part.

“you guys going out again? jeez, shouldn’t you rest the last time off, doll?” Sans asked, leaning over the railing of the landing, resting his chin on a palm.

“We’re going out for breakfast,” Papyrus said plainly, pulling on his gloves and hat. He threw a glance up at his brother, and you were surprised at how unfriendly it looked. “We’ll see you later if you’re still in.”

“breakfast, huh? i could do with something to eat, too. where you going?” Sans asked casually, but you could hear a note of some other emotion underneath, though you couldn’t pinpoint what it was. His face gave nothing away.

“Grillby’s,” Papyrus said, opening the door and gesturing you through. “Bye, Sans.” You threw a quick look over your shoulder at Sans, and he was just grinning lazily down at you as the door shut behind you. You blinked, wondering what that was about. There was clearly some kind tension between the brothers, now. You decided not to ask, not wanting to pry in their business.

Instead of holding your hand or arm as he had before, this time Papyrus put an arm around your shoulders as you walked through town. You caught the smell of cigarette smoke as he drew you close, and you looked up at him with wide, curious eyes. He was acting almost…possessive. “Papyrus?”

“Yes, Miss Frisk?”

Your breath hitched at his low-pitched voice. “You okay?”

Papyrus chuckled. “Of course! I’m great. Does your head still hurt?”

You shrugged. “It’s not so bad. I’ve had worse.”

“Have you?”

You nodded. “Yeah, there isn’t much to do for fun on the surface anymore besides get drunk and f—frolic.” You looked away, biting your lip so you didn’t snort. “Not that I was doing either of those by the end, anyway.”

Papyrus gave you a sidelong look, his eyelids lowered slightly as he smiled knowingly. “Well. I’ll do my best to remedy that.”

Your lips parted softly, and you just stared. Had he just…said what you thought he said? “Uh,” was all you managed in response, heat climbing up your neck.

You were thankfully distracted by the arrival of the usual monsters that wished to talk to Papyrus about seemingly nothing. Most of them just wanted to fawn over him, saying how great it was ever since he had moved into town, but some actually wanted to do business. Papyrus dealt with them all quickly, saying after a few back-and-forths that he would speak to them later, as he had somewhere to be. They followed, anyway, when he turned you towards the café you had noticed the night before and pushed the door open. Everyone inside looked to see who had entered, and they all called out Papyrus’s name when they saw it was him. You felt as though you were with a celebrity.

As Papyrus waved casually to a few people, a voice from the bar at the front called, “hey, bro, what took you guys so long?”

Sans. Your eyebrows knitted together instantly, as you wondered how he had beat the two of you there without you seeing him. Especially as he was fully dressed again, in the same clothes as the night before.

Papyrus gripped your shoulder before letting go and heading up to the bar, leaning against it next to Sans, who was perched on a stool, smoking. There was a plate of food in front of him, half-eaten already, and you blinked. “What are you doing here, brother?” Papyrus asked lightly, making eye contact with the bartender, who looked as though he was a living flame dressed in a classic bartender’s outfit.

You hopped up on a stool next to Sans, spinning on it to face him. “And how the hell did you get here before us?”

He turned to you with an arrogant wink. “i know a shortcut.”

“That’s great, Sans, but are you going to be done soon?” Papyrus said snappishly, and you reeled back slightly. Had something happened between them before you’d woken up or something? Because something was _definitely_ wrong.

Sans just chuckled, smoke drifting from his nasal cavity. “don’t worry, bro, I’m just here to eat. not gonna ruin your date with the human.”

You shook your head, sighing. “Just stop trying to help, please. It’s not a date.” Sans’s eyes snapped over to yours and there was something fierce in his eyes. You had to physically stop yourself from retreating.

“Ah…actually,” Papyrus cut in, and you looked up to him with a confused glance. He looked incredibly bashful. “I’m sorry if I misled you, but I thought this actually _was_ a date.”

“Oh,” was all that came out of your mouth, as you scrambled to catch up to what he was saying. “Okay, then.”

Papyrus had two soft spots of colour on his cheeks as he ducked his head. “I know it’s not the fanciest place, but you did say you wanted human food, and this is the closest… _restaurant_ …that serves it.”

Your heart was melting at the sight of a shy Papyrus, and you couldn’t stop the goofy smile that rose to your lips. You were utterly charmed. “Oh, my God… _Papyrus_ …you’re so sweet. Of course I’d love to go on a date with you. It doesn’t bother me where we are, in the slightest.”

“What a relief! Because there are places in the capital we could go, but we would have to take the train, and we wouldn’t get there until night time.” Papyrus said, giving you a charming smile and standing straight and tall. Your heart was soaring. “I figured it was better if we eat now, and then maybe we could go somewhere nice later?”

You found yourself staring at him for just a moment too long to not be obvious. You took a quick intake of breath, smiling wide and nodding. “Yeah, that—that sounds great.”

“well that just sounds super,” Sans muttered sarcastically between you, and you jumped slightly. You’d actually forgotten he was there while Papyrus had been talking to you. He tossed Papyrus a smile, the emotions behind it too subtle for you to pick up all of them. “nice one, bro.”

Papyrus just stared down Sans with a significant look. Your stomach twisted softly, as it did whenever you’d found yourself in a dangerous place without realising, but you couldn’t figure out why you’d feel that way now. Sure, the brothers seemed upset with each other, but it wasn’t as though they were going to _fight_ about it, right?

“See you _later_ , Sans,” Papyrus said with his commanding voice.

Sans had a dark, defiant look in his eyes that clashed with the wide smile on his face, and it sent chills down your spine. You suddenly didn’t want to be sitting anywhere close to them. Your skin was tightening into goosebumps, and your ears were complaining about the sudden change in air pressure. You gasped softly under your breath and both of the brothers glanced at you, the air clearing as soon as they did. You had no idea what that had been. Was _that_ monster magic, too?

“yeah, sure,” Sans deadpanned after another few beats of silence. “i’ll see you later.”

With that, he stubbed his cigarette out and headed for the exit, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. He didn’t look back, disappearing behind the door as it swung shut behind him. You turned to Papyrus with wide eyes. “What—“

“Just—ignore him, please?” Papyrus said, holding a hand up, his eyes shut. Your mouth snapped shut, and you just sat awkwardly, noticing how quiet the place had gotten. All of the other monsters were glancing towards you from their tables with nervous eyes. You honestly couldn’t blame them. Finally, Papyrus made a sort of growling sigh and opened his eyes again. “Come on. Let’s just sit and have some food.”

You followed him to a booth and waited in silence until your burger arrived, delivered by the flame-headed bartender. You took a hesitant bite, and groaned with pleasure as soon as you did. It was even better than the shower had been. It was _exactly_ what you’d needed, and your headache began to subside as  you worked your way through it quickly. You wanted to savour it, but you just couldn’t help yourself. Monster food had been great, but it hadn’t been enough to satisfy you. Your stomach had needed this. You just hoped you didn’t end up vomiting it back up because you hadn’t eaten so well for years.

“Miss Frisk,” Papyrus said as you finished your burger. “I want to apologise for earlier.”

You held a hand over your stomach, glad it didn’t seem to be revolting. Just incredibly full. “Oh, don’t worry about that, Papyrus.” You fidgeted in your seat uncomfortably. You didn’t know if you should tell him, or not, but something was telling you you could trust him to understand. You hoped your instincts weren’t wrong, and you took a deep breath. “I…I can understand what he’s probably feeling.”

“You can?”

You shrugged in a hopefully casual way, looking down at your plate full of fries, fiddling with them as your nerves set in. You hadn’t talked or even allowed yourself to think about her in so long that it felt almost like a betrayal to tell someone who was practically a stranger. “Yeah. I, uh…I used to have a sister.”

Papyrus didn’t say anything for so long that you had to look up to see if he was even paying attention. He was. The sadness in his eyes was like a spear to your gut, and you bit your lip to cut off the gathering tension behind your eyes before it could build any further. You hadn’t even cried for her when she… 

“Used to?”

You bit your lip harder, Papyrus’s obvious empathy cutting through the wall you’d built around the memories of her like it was cloth. “Yeah.” You tried a smile. “We used to get in arguments all the time. Especially when she liked someone.” Your smile was sad now, but stronger. “I lost her a long time ago. To the same villagers who threw me down here.” 

You found yourself telling him everything, then: of how you and your sister had lost your parents to the war at a very young age, and had had to keep basically on the run as unattached children in your war-torn home had practically been currency, girls especially. You’d always had to fight to survive, but your sister had looked after you, and you her. You’d fought tooth and nail for each other, even to the bitter end, which had come when you’d both tried to flee the country altogether, climbing the mountain to reach the border on the other side. 

You’d found the village instead, and had been brought into the folds of a seemingly loving family. It had felt as though you were the luckiest girls in the world, until eventually it had come to light that the village had its own religion, based around the so-called ‘demons’ in the mountain. They believed they were the world’s protectors, the only bulwark against the return of the demons, and humanity’s last hope for survival.

You had found out because of the day you had seen the elder’s guards dragging something to the entrance of the mountain, and when you realised it was a person screaming for help, you had rushed forward to stop them. They had tossed you aside, saying that the woman had sinned and needed to be sacrificed to appease the demons, and you had locked eyes with the doomed woman as she was hurled into the depths, screaming for mercy. You had found your sister and cried that day, terrified out of your mind and begging to leave. 

But she had tried to convince you that it was the best option for both of you if you stayed. She had told you that the elder’s son had proposed to her and that both of you would finally have a family again. You’d reluctantly agreed, after hours of arguing. But the longer you stayed, the worse luck the village seemed to have, and the colder everyone became towards you, until they were treating you with outright hostility.

Then came the day that they blamed your sister’s failure to conceive a child on her past, and the ‘sins’ she had committed before coming to the village. They whispered that she wasn’t worthy to bear the child of the elder’s line, and that she should be sacrificed for the good of the village. You had told her everything they were saying, and you’d made to escape, but you were caught by the guards in the forest surrounding the village.

You didn’t tell Papyrus everything they’d done to you and your sister that day. You only said that they had hurt you, and had murdered your sister right in front of your eyes, saying that it was at the gods’ behest.

You also didn’t tell him that you hadn’t survived that day, either, but that hadn’t stopped you from returning to the village, bloodlust overwhelming you and guiding the knife you had stolen from your first victim in the village.

You only told him that they had treated you as though you were one of the demons they were protecting against, from that day on. They had caged you in the cave leading to the mouth of the mountain, starving and beating you whenever the whim came over them. You had no idea how long you were kept in that cage, as the days and nights blended together after a while.

Then the night of your judgment had come, and you were so ready to be free by then that you hadn’t cared what they did to you. You’d just wanted to see your sister again.

Papyrus’s eyes were turned away as you told him your story, and you thought you saw regret flash across his face. He toyed with the rim of the glass of orange juice he had, running his fingertip along it. You thought you recognised that same tic from Sans, and you wondered which of them had passed it to the other. With siblings, you knew, it was sometimes difficult to tell, even for them. “Frisk, I—I’m sorry for your loss. I know what it’s like to lose someone. We…had an older brother who died in the riots in the capital, a couple years back. But if I—if I lost Sans, too—I—” 

“Hey,” you stopped him, holding a hand over his. He looked up at you with strangely guilty eyes, but you just wrote it off as the usual reaction people had when you told them of everything you’d lost. “Don’t worry about that. Sans is tough enough to look after himself down here.” You smiled comfortingly, patting his hand. “And if he’s not, he has you to do it for him.”

You thought you could hear the soft rattle of his bones, but it was gone in the next second. Papyrus was staring in your eyes intensely, and you were caught in his gaze, not wanting to blink or move at all. It felt as though he wanted to tell you something incredibly important, but didn’t know what words to use. Finally, he said, “Frisk. I’m so sorry. For everything.”

You felt bad, suddenly. “God, no, I’m the one who’s sorry. I ruined our date by bringing up the past.” You bowed your head, grinning to yourself. “I just—you’ve been so sweet to me, Papyrus, and you didn’t even know anything about me. You’re the nicest person I’ve ever met. I guess I just wanted you to know that I understand what it’s like to make sacrifices for family.” You took a deep breath, folding your hands down on your lap. “And that…I _do_ like you, Papyrus. But if it’s going to cause tension between you and Sans, I’ll back off.”

Papyrus was quiet for a while, and you peeked up through your fringe at him, to see him watching you. When he had caught your eye, he smiled. “You done eating?” he asked, throwing you for a loop.

“Uh—yeah, uh, I am,” you stuttered, pushing your plate forward a bit to offer him the fries left on it. He waved his hand and stood, and you followed, wondering where you were going. He slung an arm around your shoulder again, tossing a few goodbyes to the room as you left. Once you were outside, though, he turned to face you, his hand sliding to the back of your neck as he looked down with a serious face.

“Listen, Frisk. Don’t worry about Sans.” He said, stroking his thumb along the vertebrae at your neck. You shivered, aware of how close the two of you stood. “In fact, let’s not worry about _anything_ that might happen. Let’s just enjoy ourselves.” When you nodded, giving him a small smile in response to his encouraging one, he said, “That’s my girl.”

Then he leaned down and kissed you, and you gasped softly at the odd sensation of it. It didn’t feel at all like bone pressing against your lips—it was more like a layer of hot, flickering fire shaped like flesh. You reached up and wrapped your arms around him, your hands clasped together behind his neck. You kissed him back eagerly, standing on your tiptoes to meet him halfway, and he drew you close with a hand at your back, the other buried in your hair. You could feel the strength in him, and you knew that if he wanted to, he could lift you into his arms or break you without a thought.

Just as you parted your lips to deepen the kiss, though, it was suddenly over. Papyrus released you and stepped back, leaving you dazed, pulse racing. Your arms hung uselessly at your side as you stared openly at him. You noticed he was breathing heavily, and it struck you how odd that was, but your mind was otherwise occupied to take more than a passing note. 

You were more concerned with the fact that, though the kiss had been incredibly sexy even in its chasteness, you had felt nothing more than that. There was something vital missing between you, and you wanted to kiss him again just to get another chance to figure out what exactly it was.

You thought you could see the same emotion passing through Papyrus’s eyes, but neither of you said anything. After a brief, tense moment between you, Papyrus said,

“Come on, I’ll take you wherever you like, today, just the two of us.” You gave him a slow smile, nodding and taking his hand.

For the rest of the day Papyrus took you around the town, doing whatever caught your fancy. You went shopping for clothes, at his suggestion, to keep you from having to wear Sans’s castoffs. You relied heavily on his advice, as you hadn’t shopped for clothes for yourself since you were much younger. Originally you’d gone straight for the practical clothes—shirts and trousers in neutral colours, that had won you over by way of actually fitting you properly—but you’d been encouraged by Papyrus to try on some dresses once he’d noticed your curiosity. By the end of the trip, you ended up with a full wardrobe of clothes for different seasons and occasions. It made you feel like royalty when Papyrus had the whole lot boxed up in elaborate packagings and sent to the house, so that you could continue the day unburdened.

As you walked through the town with Papyrus, you spent the time talking about how Underground used to be, telling him about what Sans had said the night before. He told you about how different things had been for him and Sans before they moved from the Capital, and it struck you as odd that he would speak of his brother in such reverent tones considering how they had fought just that morning. 

It was almost like hearing about a different person entirely, and you found it a little hard to believe, almost as though he was trying to convince you of something. Regardless, you listened with an attentive ear as he spoke of their years trying to make their way up from nothing once the riots had taken their brother. Your admiration for Papyrus’s ability to persevere through extreme hardship only cemented how much you respected him. You felt as though you’d found a kindred soul in him, and it helped ease any doubts you’d felt after the kiss.

Papyrus had offered to take you out for a fancy dinner, but when you realised how exhausted you were still, he’d taken you home instead, and insisted you relax and be his ‘culinary muse.’ You spent the rest of the evening joking around and laughing with him, the atmosphere noticeably lighter in the house without Sans around. You didn’t ask where he was, and you didn’t care. You were simply enjoying spending time with Papyrus. Before you knew it, you were giving Papyrus a kiss on the cheek and saying goodnight, heading upstairs to your room, and climbing into bed in your new pyjamas.

As you drifted off to sleep, you could still see the light from downstairs creeping under your door.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next two chapters will be posted within a day of each other, because of reasons.


	5. The Fallout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans forgets himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everybody so much for reading! I'm so glad you all enjoy it!
> 
> -ROBOTIC COUGH-
> 
> That being said, please keep that in mind while reading this chapter HA HA HA.

There were voices drifting up from the floor below. The urgency in them pulled you from your dreams, and you rose out of bed, concerned that something had happened to the brothers. You pushed out of your room and to the end of the hall, stopping when you heard your name.

“I’m done, Sans. I won’t do this to Frisk.” It was Papyrus, and he sounded incredibly upset. You held a hand to the wall at your side, feeling guilty for listening in as soon as you heard Sans’s voice join his, but you were unable to stop yourself. You had to know what they were saying about you.

“what do you mean, you’re done?” Sans’s voice had a hint of laughter to it, as though he couldn’t believe what Papyrus was saying.

“She doesn’t deserve this.” Papyrus sounded tired, and you heard the couch groan, as though someone were sitting, or standing up from it. You wanted badly to peek around the corner and down the stairs, but you were too afraid of being caught. 

“since when do you care if they _deserve_ it? you spend one day with her, and you suddenly want to forget the plan?” Sans’s words dripped with derision, and it made you sick to your stomach to hear. What were they talking about? What plan?

“It’s not about _today_!” There was a sound of frustration. “It’s just—I’m just—”

“oh my _god_ , you actually _want_ her.”

You held a hand over your mouth in surprise, muffling the small, sharp inhalation of breath you took. Your heart expanded with delight for a brief moment before it sunk straight to the pit of your stomach at Papyrus’s next words.

“No, Sans, I’m just good at my job. I haven’t forgotten what _I’m_ supposed to doing. I may like her more than I realised, but it doesn’t mean I’m romantically involved.”

“didn’t seem that way from where I stood.” Sans gave a short, dark laugh. “so, let me get this straight: you’re fine with kissing and cuddling her in front of the whole town, but when it comes to following through, you’re ‘done?’”

Your heart clenched painfully. Had Sans been _watching you_ this whole time? And what did Papyrus mean by him being good at his job? Oh, God, were _you_ the job? You were frozen to the spot, listening to their exchange with growing horror.

“Don’t be obtuse. I was _trying_ to fix the damage you’d done by trying to seduce her yourself last night.” Papyrus’s voice made it clear he had very little patience left for his brother. “Look, you have to stop this, Sans. Covering her up and then saying it was me—dancing with her—the _cigarette_? If _you_ want her, you can just take over, instead of making it difficult for me. I only agreed to do this because you _said_ she had a thing for _me_.”

Oh, God.

“the fuck are you talking about.” Sans was not amused anymore, his voice low and flat.

Papyrus gave a soft laugh. “Really? You’re going to try to deny it? To _me_?”

“there’s nothing to deny. i was picking up your slack when you fucked off. she _wanted_ a drink. she _wanted_ a cigarette. _she wanted to dance._ ”

Oh, _no_.

“Oh, _okay_ , so while I was _slacking off_ , defending our human from those cretins trying to snatch her from underneath us, you were busy _making allowances_ , which apparently isn’t okay for _me_ to do! They’re dead, by the way. _You’re welcome_.”

“don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy yourself.”

“ _That’s not the point, Sans_!” You heard Papyrus take a deep breath, and his voice was much calmer when he spoke again. “The point is, I don’t want to do this anymore. Frisk isn’t—stupid. I think it’s obvious to her how I really feel.”

“nah, bro, you’re doing really well. i’ve seen the way she looks at you—she’d do anything for you. you’re her hero.”

You held your hand tight over your mouth so your suddenly quick, deep breaths were softened, and you trembled with betrayal. Hearing Sans speak plainly of things you hadn’t even come to realise yet was like a punch to the gut. Were you really so obvious and oblivious in your affection that they could manipulate you without you even noticing? Oh, God, you felt _sick_.

“That’s great, but you won’t have to be the one to look her in the eye when she figures out the truth. Because she _will_ figure it out.”

“and?”

“What do you mean, and?”

“well. you parading her around—the two of you acting like fucking _lovebirds_ —was just the path of least resistance, remember? best outcome we could have hoped for. no fuss, no mess. but if you don’t wanna do it this way…”

“Fine, I get it, I’ll keep pretending—”

“no, no, papyrus. if you aren’t comfortable doing things _your_ way, then I’ll take the reins from here, and we’ll do it _my_ way.”

“Sans, no, she’s been through enough without you getting involved.” There was a note of panic in Papyrus’s voice. “I’ll make sure she reaches the Capital like we planned. No fuss, no mess.”

“okay.” You heard the sound of a match strike, and there was a brief silence before Sans continued with, “i’m going to bed.”

As you heard Sans start up the stairs, you panicked and dashed back to your room silently. You were dizzy with dread, pacing back and forth, overflowing with the need to flee. You were still in shock at what you’d overheard, but you were rapidly coming to terms with it. You’d fallen into a den of vipers without even realising. What were they going to do with you? They spoke of a plan, and persuading you into doing what they wanted, but what did that mean for you? They said they were going to take you to the Capital, but for what purpose? Were you to be sold as a slave? A prostitute? Something worse…? 

In the end, it didn’t matter. Whatever they had in store for you, you weren’t going to hang around to find out. No matter what feelings you’d had for the brothers before, they were pushed aside by your determination to escape. You took a deep, shuddering breath to steady yourself, and decided to dress yourself in your warmest, sturdiest clothes from the selection you’d been bought that day.

Thanks, Papyrus.

Speaking of which, you hadn’t heard him make his way to his room. Oh well. It didn’t matter. Despite his deception, you figured Papyrus wouldn’t harm you if he caught you leaving. Especially if you were valuable. Regardless, you glanced around your room for something to defend yourself with if  you came to blows, for the second time that day. It made sense now why the room was so sparsely furnished. Thugs generally didn’t offer their hostages any way to defend themselves. 

When you didn’t manage to spot anything practical to use, you shook your head and thought that you’d just have to rely on yourself, as usual. You hadn’t been trained in any particular way, but you’d had to fight for your life enough that you knew how to defend yourself without weapons. You steeled yourself and slipped out of your room and down the hall once more, creeping on the balls of your feet. You peered over the banister, scanning the downstairs for Papyrus, even as you kept one eye on Sans’s door. The coast looked clear; he must have moved to the kitchen. You padded quickly down the stairs and made straight for the front door.

“Miss Frisk?”

You ignored the sound of Papyrus’s voice, reaching for the handle.

“Frisk, wait! Please don’t…it’s dangerous out there!”

You glanced back at Papyrus, disgusted by the way he still acted as though he cared about you, as though this house wasn’t where the real danger lived. You shook your head slightly as you turned and pulled the door open.

Sans, grinning madly, his eye sockets fully dark and empty, stood in your way, his hands pushed firmly in his trouser pockets, his stance wide and challenging.

“you should listen to my brother. it _is_ dangerous out here.”

You reeled back in shock. How? He was upstairs. You heard him. You _heard_ him. Icy fingers of panic gripped you as he took a step toward you and you backed away. You were trapped.

No. You weren’t going to let him intimidate you. It didn’t matter _how_ he’d gotten there—he wasn’t going to stop you. You stepped forward again, reaching to push past him, but when you attempted to do so, you staggered back as you met an unnatural amount of resistance. It was like trying to push past a mountain. Sans laughed at you, shaking his head, and your ears popped with the sudden pressure change. 

“you still don’t get it, do you?” He lazily gestured toward you as if swatting at an insect, and you felt a rush of air as you were pushed backward by some unseen force, your feet skidding along the floor until you were in the centre of the room. Sans followed you with slow, menacing footsteps, casually closing the door behind him. The sound of it was like a cell door clicking shut, to your ears. “i told you once already, you’re trapped down here with us.” 

He made another gesture and you were flung toward the couch, you body moulding itself to the cushions, an irresistible force holding you in place. You were helpless as Sans advanced on you, setting a foot up on the couch and resting his elbow on his knee, looming over you. You saw manic glints deep in the voids of his eyes as he leaned in close. 

“so get comfortable, because you’re not leaving any time soon.” He raised his hand to your face, brushing the backs of his finger bones along your cheek, and you hated the shiver of interest that spread from his touch. You stared defiantly back at him, and out of the corner of your eye you noticed that the etchings on his arm bones appeared to be lit from within, sparking with a blue light. It sent a jolt of familiarity through you, but you couldn’t place the memory through your stress.

“ah, it’s a real shame you decided not to do this the easy way. somehow, it feels like, given time…we could have been good friends.” He dropped his hand and stood straight, both feet on the floor once more. “oh well.” Your nose wrinkled with disgust as he reached for a cigarette, lighting it as he breathed in, his eyes boring into you. “if i were you,” he said, smoke wafting across your face. “i’d just sit there and forget about doing anything stupid while my brother and i have a little chat.” 

Then he turned his back to you and strode to the kitchen, where you could see Papyrus standing with wide eyes, his hand braced against the doorway. He was watching you with deep, obvious regret, waiting until Sans mumbled something before turning away and following him further into the kitchen. You had a clear view of them from your position, still held firmly against the couch, and you saw them speaking quietly to each other, but you couldn’t hear more than the odd word that made little sense out of context. Papyrus kept glancing up at you with a sorry expression.

You glared fiercely at him, wishing you could stop shaking with adrenaline long enough to formulate a plan. But you couldn’t. You were actually scared. You had no idea what a monster would want with a human. At least with the humans you’d fought or been caught by, you’d known what they could do to you. Without knowing what to expect, your mind raced further and further into panic. It conjured images of torture beyond what you thought you could bear.

After only a short time, Papyrus nodded and sighed, his shoulders slumping forward. You watched with bated breath as he sidestepped his brother, giving him a single clap on the shoulder and saying, “Be careful.” Without waiting for a reply, he made his way towards you, and you kept your glare trained on him, but he wouldn’t meet your eyes. Good. The rotten, sneaky, backstabbing _snake_ should feel _horrible_ for what he was doing to you. You would _make sure_ he was looking you in the eyes at the end. You were ready for him to assault you in some way, but he merely left the house silently, his head held low. As you watched him leave, your anger stuttered, mixing with the sour taste of disappointment.

“heh…you’re a real hellcat when you’re angry, aren’t you?” Sans asked, and your gaze swung to where he stood leaning against the archway of the kitchen, his ankles crossed to the side. You felt your nostrils flaring as you stared down the other object of your ire, your breath coming more quickly. You wanted to spit right in his smug face. 

You hated nothing more than a betrayal, and it was worse that you’d known—you’d _fucking known_ —that there was something off about them. You’d just waved away the feeling, thinking that you were being paranoid because of the years of abuse you’d suffered at the hands of those you’d thought were your family. _Oh_ , they must just be upset because you were making eyes at Papyrus. They weren’t going to hurt you—your instincts told you they were _trustworthy_! Bullshit.

You should have paid more attention. You should have kept a clearer head. You should have been more sceptical, more wary, more suspicious. You’d always been so smart with meeting new people on the surface, only giving them the bare minimum of trust at first, no matter how trustworthy they seemed. You’d long ago stopped believing that everyone could be a good person.

But…you’d been blindsided. You’d let the idea of fairy tales and monsters cloud your judgement, even though you’d seen so many warning signs telling you there was something bad happening under the surface. You’d just ignored them. You’d wanted to believe that Papyrus—and the Underground itself—was your chance at a new life. You’d wanted to believe that you were in a better place, where you didn’t have to look over your shoulder every day. That finally, you’d found somewhere where you could belong.

You knew that if you survived through whatever the brothers had in store for you, you would find it near impossible to trust anybody ever again. You were so far beyond done. You were physically ill with the feeling of foolishness. You had _actually_ thought that they had liked you—had wanted you to stay with them. That was stupid, though, wasn’t it?

Everyone wanted something _from_ you.

Slave labor. 

Sex toy.

Sacrifice…

You were never going to find someone who just wanted _you_.

Your anger fizzled, then, and you were left deflated, looking down to the floor. What was the point of railing against an impossible situation? You weren’t going to be able to free yourself when you couldn’t move an inch from this spot. And even if you could, how exactly were you going to escape when Sans was right there to stop you?

“what’s the matter? don’t you have something sassy to say right about now?” Sans asked, pulling his cigarette away and breathing out a trail of smoke to the ceiling, his head crooked back. He turned to you with a shit-eating smile, his eyes aglow.

Your gaze pierced his, the fire of your anger reigniting in an instant. _You weren’t going to respond_. If you responded to his bait, he won. You may not be able to fight back physically, but you could deny him the pleasure of getting you to rise to his challenge.

“you know, you don’t have to be so angry. papyrus had nothing to do with this. he was just following orders.”

You snorted before you could stop yourself. Sans looked deeply amused at that. “don’t believe me, huh? yeah, i don’t blame you. it’s the truth though. i know you heard us talking—so you must know on some level who’s really in charge here.”

You did everything you could to stop the words from rising beyond your throat. You bit your tongue. Your body shook with tension. You told yourself that it wouldn’t do any good. But still, you spoke, your voice clipped and hoarse,

“You are not a leader.”

Sans’s brow bones rose at your words, then fell as he smiled again, a breathy laugh puffing out of him. “yeah. yeah, you got me there.”

His agreement took the rest of the wind out of your sails, and you ended up merely staring back at him. You wished you hadn’t given in to your desire to speak. You didn’t want to lose the anger—it was the only thing keeping you from crumbling to bits and giving in to the other emotions vying for your attention. 

Fear was still licking at the edges of your mind, and further beyond, you could hear the wailing of injustice, sounding like a small child crying for its mother. You didn’t want to look at that part of you, though. It made you want to stomp your foot and demand that Sans take back every bit of happiness you’d felt when talking to him and Papyrus, every smile, every whisper in your heart that you might have found a home after all this time. It wasn’t fair that they’d done that to you. It wasn’t right for them to have given you hope, and then rip it away just as you were starting to believe it.

It made you want to cry.

You absolutely would not, though. You were stronger than that. You weren’t going to give Sans the satisfaction of seeing your pain. He didn’t deserve it.

Sans tried to get you to react again for a little while longer before he got the message, giving up and retreating back to the kitchen. Your eyes couldn’t help but follow his every move, though, still. He lit another cigarette off of the one he had just finished, turning slightly away from you as he sat in one of the dining chairs, leaning an elbow on the table.

You watched him for a long time, then.

You watched as he leaned forward in his chair, scraping his hands across his face and over his skull.

You watched as he slumped in his chair, his eyes watching the cigarette burning down by itself, held loosely between his fingers, forgotten.

You watched him light another one, and never take a drag.

You watched as his eyelids slid slowly downwards, only to snap back open a moment later, his eyes racing to find you. You hoped he couldn’t see the flush creeping up your neck as he caught you observing him, but he didn’t seem to mind.

You watched him turn away again, crossing his arms over his chest.

You watched as his eyes gradually drifted closed…

…and didn’t open again.

It was your chance.

As he’d slowly fallen asleep, you’d felt his hold on your body loosen, until you were fully free. Once you knew for sure he was asleep, you tensed and lifted yourself from the leather couch inch by inch. Finally, you began to creep forward, not daring to breathe. You were just outside the kitchen arch when you hesitated, your eyes finding Sans’s sleeping face, pillowed against his folded arms on the table. Against your conscious will, you noticed how innocent he appeared, his teeth parted slightly as he snored softly. He looked so small and sweet when he slept.

You could just leave.

You didn’t have to hurt him. You could just _leave_ , and hide somewhere in the mountain until you found an exit. Your heart hammered in your chest at the thought. Were you really going to do something so risky as throw away your best shot to remove Sans as a threat?

Were you really going to kill someone you’d thought of as a friend only a few hours ago?

Did you have a choice?

No. You didn’t. Your gorge rose at the thought of how you _had_ to take that knife from the countertop, and strike at Sans before he woke and saw you standing there. It wasn’t even about you, anymore. Whatever he and Papyrus had in mind for you, you were fairly sure you would survive somehow, even if you were kept prisoner for the rest of your life. You always had, no matter how dire the situation. But you weren’t the only human who had fallen.

And you wouldn’t be the last.

Your mind conjured the image of a young girl, clinging to her sister as they fled a house that had become their parents’ graves, gunfire exploding through the air. You thought of that girl finding her way to the mountain as they attempt to find refuge across the border. You thought of the monsters that waited for her on the surface. Your heart broke as you thought of the monster that waited for her right in front of you.

You had no choice.

Not everyone was as lucky as you. Not everyone could survive whatever life threw at them. You knew that well. There were hundreds—thousands—of those less fortunate, even as you and your sister had always managed to escape every scrape. If you could save the life of even one person, by just taking that knife in your hand and choosing the difficult path, you were going to do it.

Before you could change your mind, you snuck forward and lifted the knife, the heft of it in your hand eerily fitting. You wished you weren’t so familiar with it, but at least it would make your task easier now. You silently apologised to Sans and Papyrus for what you were about to do, your anger long forgotten and replaced by the weight of responsibility. 

You turned back to the sleeping monster, stepping forward and raising the knife—

—and gasped as your back was slammed against the wall, the knife held directly against your throat by a skeletal hand, Sans’s left eye blazingly bright in your vision as it flickered between cyan and yellow. Your mind stuttered with confusion. How—how had he—you hadn’t even seen him _move_ —

“if you wanted another dance, you could’ve just asked, y’know,” Sans growled menacingly at you, his wide smile sending chills down your spine.

You stared deep into his eyes, taking quick, shallow breaths to keep from being cut by the knife. “Just—do it!” you bit out from behind gritted teeth. “Stop toying with me and just do it!”

Sans chuckled after a moment, his eyes settling back into his usual white pupils. You stared with desperation as he eased up on you slightly, letting the knife clatter to the floor between you and kicking it away. “nah, i don’t think so.”

“You’re just a _coward_ —too scared to do anything for yourself,” you spat at him, striking out, but your fist only met air, Sans now standing a few feet left of where he had been. You panted softly, adrenaline making you tremble at the look he gave you, then.

“what are you babbling about? did you forget already that you were trapped just a second ago?” His voice was flat, though his words were obviously meant to have humor in them. He was watching you with wary eyes, though he appeared to be trying to hide it.

“But I’m standing here now, aren’t I?” You stood tall, then, a slow, superior smile tugging at your lips as you faced Sans down. God, it suddenly made sense. “And that’s why you’re scared.”

Sans snorted. “if you think i’m scared of _you_ —“

“No, I think you’re scared of _wanting_ me,” you bit back, crossing the small distance between you in a second. You’d thought that being able to look down on him would give weight to your words, but you found it only made your heart thump louder to be so close. _“_ Why are you letting me stand here, Sans? I thought I was a prisoner. I thought you were doing things ‘your way’ now.” You smiled, feeling slightly manic. “No, here’s a better question for you. Why would you want _Papyrus_ to seduce me, hm?” You leaned close with heavily lidded eyes, your face less than a foot from his. You caught the scent of his cigarettes on him, and it sent a thrill through you. You’d meant to speak harshly, but when the words came out, they sounded more passionate than angry. “Is that how you get off? Watching your brother kiss me?”

“shut your mouth before i shut it for you,” Sans said, his voice gruff, barely above a whisper.

“Why don’t _you_ touch me, Sans?” you retaliated, your tone matching his. There was a physical, rising pressure between you, hot and electric, and the insistent feeling of it against your body sent waves of arousal through you. “Is it—just maybe—because you know, deep down, that you aren’t strong enough for me?”

Sans’s eyes sparked dangerously, and you could feel the same sparks on the bare skin at your neck, like little love bites. Your breath hitched, your eyes closing for a moment as you were overwhelmed with desire. When they opened again, Sans was breathing heavily, his bones cracking as though he was realigning himself. His eyes were wide, bright, and direct, and you met them with the same intensity. Something passed between you, then, and you knew that you’d both gone past the point of no return.

And then you slammed together, meeting in a passionate, almost feral kiss, bodies flush against each other. Sans gripped you to him with one hand cradling the back of your neck and the other on your hip, his fingertips digging into you. You clung to him, your body humming with excitement at how right it felt to kiss him, your tongue slipping against his warm, sparking magic. It pushed forward until you were fully enveloped, caressing your skin and nipping at your neck with more love bites.

You sighed with pleasure as he broke the kiss and nuzzled along your jaw over to your earlobe, taking it between his teeth and rolling it softly as he growled under his breath. Coupled with his magic kneading against your breast, the sparks causing your nipple to harden against your shirt, the sound drew a shuddering moan from you. Sans froze for a single moment before growling again, louder. The world shifted slightly, blinking in and out, and you were against the wall again, your arms now pinned by Sans’s hands. You arched against his body with the rush of lust that it sent through you, whimpering softly. Sans’s eyes pulsed at the sound, smiling slowly and deliberately, and you felt powerful, knowing you could affect him like that without even meaning to.

“you like that, kitten?” he said roughly, sliding your arms slowly upwards until your wrists were pinned above your head. You nodded, breath shallow, swallowing reflexively at how sexy it was to be essentially at his mercy. “say it.”

“God, yes,” you breathed.

“yes, what?” He slid his hands down your arms as he spoke, though you were still held in place. You moaned when you realised he was keeping you there with his magic. You hitched a leg around his hip, one of his hands meeting your thigh as the other slipped under your shirt. He cupped your breast and squeezed it hard, rolling the pad of his thumb bone feather-light against your nipple. You squirmed with the pleasure pooling in your pussy, and you could feel how wet you were. “yes, _what_?” he growled, his eyes staring deep into yours, two spots of blue rising softly to his cheeks as he ran his hand up your thigh to grip your ass, pulling you against his hips.

“Yes, I love it, oh God, please—” you whimpered as his magic pressed hard between your thighs, sliding against your sex agonisingly slow. You wanted him inside you, so badly. You needed him to fuck you.

“what?” he breathed, thrusting his hips lightly, his magic rubbing against your clit through your trousers, his hand teasing your nipple in time with it, and you whined with desire. “tell me what you want.”

“Please, fuck me!” you cried breathlessly. “God, Sans, please!”

At your pleading, he suddenly froze. You were released after another beat, your hands dropping to your sides as he stepped away, his gaze falling to the floor. Confused and aching for his touch, you made to follow him, asking, “Sans, what—” You skid back against the wall again, hitting your head roughly. You gasped, and unease bloomed in your heart, your stomach flopping. “Sans?”

“don’t—i can’t—” He was quiet, and you thought you could see his bones trembling slightly. He fell silent for several agonising moments. Then he turned back to you, his face devoid of the passion you’d seen on him just before. His eyes were nearly dark, and when he spoke, it was flat—unemotional. “why should i?”

You shook your head, eyebrows raised high. You wanted desperately to go to him, but you knew he would only throw you back again. “Why should you what?”

“why would I fuck you?”

“Wh—because obviously we want to?” you retorted, still confused at his complete about-face. You weren’t crazy; he had clearly wanted you just as badly as you’d wanted him. There was no way he could have faked that.

“you’re pretty naïve if you thought i actually wanted you. why would i? you’re a human.” He paused, his hands fisting at his sides. Though his face still showed no emotion, you caught a definite tremor in his voice. “humans are disgusting.”

You flinched back as though struck. Why was he doing this, suddenly? “Sans—please—don’t do this.”

“there’s only one thing I want from you,” he said, stone in his voice, his eyes empty, and he raised his left hand, palm-up. Your brows knitted together with confusion, but before you could respond, he fisted his outstretched hand and made a pulling motion. A scream tore out of you at the sudden, intense pain from behind your chest, the room now bathed in red.

“Your SOUL.”

Gasping for breath through the aching pain, you looked down at yourself and saw a blood-red heart shape hovering in front of you, its light strong and steady. You bit your lip anxiously. What had he done to you? Had he just said that that was your soul? You tore your eyes away from the heart and looked through the glow to Sans. You thought you caught a glimpse of pain twisting his features, but that might have just been your imagination, as what he said next cut you straight to the core.

“Without that, you’d be useless.”

You cringed, the ache in your chest now having nothing to do with the pain of your soul being ripped out. You bit down harder, and looked away from him, unable to look him in the eye anymore.

“It’s the only reason you’re still alive right now.”

Oh. So it was like that, then.

“If you didn’t have such a powerful SOUL—”

You felt your heart sigh with resignation. Oh well. You’d thought—hoped—there might be more to him than what showed on the surface, a deeper connection between the two of you. It had certainly felt that way. But if that’s how he wanted it? You would do things _your way_. You wouldn’t bother resisting again, and the moment he slipped up…

“—you’d be dead where you stand.”

You wouldn’t hesitate a second time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay determined.


	6. The Challenger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk is/n't impressed.

“Miss Frisk, would you like something to drink?”

You stared ahead, deliberately ignoring Papyrus. You were sitting opposite him in a train car, swaying with the motion of the train as it clattered along the tracks, but otherwise completely still. You barely even blinked.

“Miss Frisk, please have something to drink. You need to stay hydrated.”

You mentally snorted. What for? So you were nice and healthy when they sold you off into slavery? So you didn’t have bags under your eyes when they gave you to their king as a concubine? Who the fuck cared what they wanted. You weren’t their pet to feed and water and use for whatever they fancied.

“Please, Frisk. If you don’t take care of yourself, Sans will get himself involved.”

Your eyes snapped into focus, boring into Papyrus’s. He looked nervous, and guilty, and maybe even a little sad. You gritted your teeth, unwilling to give in to your desire to forgive him. He didn’t deserve to be forgiven—him or his dickhead of a brother. The rest of the night after Sans had pushed you away had been incredibly tense. You had refused to acknowledge him, no matter how uncomfortable the situation got. You’d both ended up sitting in the living room, him watching you from his chair as you sat on the couch. He hadn’t spoken another word all night, nor had he fallen asleep again. 

Needless to say, you hadn’t gotten any sleep, either.

When the morning came, Papyrus arriving with it, you’d been hauled down to a train stop, marched between the brothers like a prisoner, even though they pretended like nothing was wrong in front of the other monsters. You’d glared at anyone who dared look at you, though, and their hungry eyes had darted away, clearly understanding that something had changed. No one had even tried to approach.

You’d been bustled onto the train when it arrived, sat in a private compartment that was clearly reserved for you and the brothers, and promptly forgotten in favour of more awkward, tense silence. At least until Sans left, saying he was going to get a drink. Then Papyrus had breathed out a sigh and turned to you with his question, but you couldn’t be less in the mood to talk to him.

Still…

“He can try,” you deadpanned.

Papyrus seemed to straighten at the sound of your voice. “It would be much easier if you just cooperated.”

You narrowed your eyes. “What do you think I’m doing now?”

“I think you’re trying to hurt my brother.”

Your jaw was clenched so tight it hurt your teeth. You spoke through them. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Come on. Give me some credit,” Papyrus said, bracing his elbow against the lip of the window, his eyes watching the passing scenery. You could see the forest gradually levelling out and becoming swampy out of the corner of your eye. You didn’t particularly care to look, anymore. You’d been incredibly curious when you’d fallen, but if you were only going to be a slave or, y’know, _dead_ , what was the point of having curiosity? “You don’t live with someone your whole life without knowing when something’s upset them.”

You thought of your sister, and the many times she’d tried to hide a particularly upsetting night from you, even though you’d both known that you could tell. Your lip twisted as you unwillingly related with Papyrus. “I guess he told you all the gruesome details, huh?”

“He doesn’t have to, and frankly I don’t really care,” Papyrus glanced over at you, giving a pensive smile. “But when I come home to the two of you locked in a staring contest from opposite ends of the room, I can tell it’s bad.”

“I wasn’t looking at him,” you said automatically, then made a slight noise of disgust to yourself. God, you sounded like a child when you spoke like that. What did it matter if he thought you were watching Sans? You were _allowed_. 

“That’s…really not the point right now.” Papyrus shifted in his seat, so he was facing you, his hands palm-up in his lap. “The point is, Frisk, regardless of what happened last night, I know my brother. And I know that, whether or not you believe it, he would only try to do what he felt was right.”

“ _Oh_ , so the right thing is to pretend to befriend and seduce someone just so you can take their soul later?” you spat at him. Hearing the words aloud was like attaching a vice to your heart and giving it a twist. You still felt incredibly foolish for falling for their act, and it only added to your disgust when you saw the embarrassment on Papyrus’s face. How had he even managed to pretend to like you, if it bothered him so much?

“Sans actually told you the plan? That’s a surprise.” Papyrus hummed, his brow bones raised as he leaned back. “He never normally shows his hand like that.”

“You mean the plan to keep me alive long enough to sell my soul? And then use my empty body for whatever the fuck you want? What’s it going to be, Papyrus?” You leaned forward, eyes narrowed. “Am I going to be your pretty little human toy? Are you and Sans just going to play with me until you get bored, and then throw me out like the trash I obviously am to you?” 

You snorted when Papyrus flinched. Then you had a thought, snapping your fingers, a spark flying from them because of your high energy. “Hey, and if I’m really lucky, I won’t even _feel_ any of it! Who  knows what’ll happen to me without a soul? Fuck, until last night I didn’t even know the thing existed! ’S’gotta be pretty important to you guys, though, if you went through all that trouble to get me onboard,” you finished, breathing heavily through your nose. You knew you should stay calm, but you just couldn’t stand how casual he had spoken, as though them having a ‘plan’ somehow made what they’d done better.

“Ah.” Papyrus said after a long, tense silence. “So…he _didn’t_ tell you the plan, then.” He gave you a crooked smile as your eyebrows drew together. “Oopsie doopsie.”

Your lips parted softly at his words. “What?” was all you managed.

Papyrus held his hands up, shaking his head. “Heh, you should just forget I said anything. I’m sure Sans has just thought of a new, better plan and just forgot…to tell me…” At the dry look you gave him, he hung his head. “Yeah, I know. I’m really not very good at lying on the spot.”

“Huh, that’s funny, because that’s pretty much all you’ve done since I met you,” you snapped, crossing your arms and leaning back in your seat.

“No, no, you see, what I did to you wasn’t spur of the moment,” Papyrus said, and you snorted loudly. “What? It wasn’t. We’d had that plan for years.” His brow bones lowered and he scraped his finger bone along his jaw thoughtfully. You noticed he had dark markings winding up the back of his hand and disappearing into the sleeve of his suit, the same as Sans. You glanced down at his other hand, but it was unmarked. “Ever since things started going downhill, we’d had the idea that we’d, uh…” He paused, and you got the feeling he was reassessing his choice of words because of you. “We’d _take care of_ any humans who fell.”

You couldn’t help it; a laugh burst out of you. “Oh my God, is that what you think you were doing?”

“Look, I’ve said I was sorry. I don’t know what else you want from me.” Papyrus said, shrugging.

You stared at him. “You have _not_ , you lying liar.”

Papyrus blinked. “Oh. Have I not?” He seemed to think that over. “Oh. I suppose you’re right. Well! Please accept this as my official apology, then.”

“I happily—gleefully, even—refuse your apology.” When Papyrus had the gall to look shocked and hurt, you shrugged with your arms still crossed. “Are you actually kidding me? You seriously think I’m just going to say ‘Oh, Papyrus, I completely and totally forgive you for making me think you cared about me and then stomping on my heart just as I started liking you, too!’” You laughed bitterly. “Hey, no, I have a better idea. Why don’t you and your garbage brother literally fuck off.”

“Frisk, we _do_ care about you,” he said, his hands on his knees, his eyes wide. “Don’t you get it? That’s the problem with the plan. It’s why Sans is having so much trouble. We were just supposed to collect the human, take them to the Capital, and use their SOUL to break the barrier that traps us, so we could finally get everyone out of here. We always figured that if they liked us, maybe they would eventually get the idea in their head to give their SOUL willingly to us. Then we wouldn’t have to—” He cleared his throat, cutting himself off. “But even after all this time, we never, ever thought what we’d do if _we_ liked the _human_. We just…never even considered it.” He shook his head and laughed with disbelief.

You watched him silently, thinking on his words, before saying in a clear, clipped voice, “Boo. Fucking. Hoo. So your super great plan has a hitch in it. I can’t help but notice that I’m still on a train to Deathsville.”

Papyrus blinked at you before a sad smile spread across his face. “Sans told me that he mentioned some stuff about the riots to you. About how Underground ended up like…this.” He gestured out the window, at the rows and rows of houses the train passed through, every one of them looking worse for the wear. You caught a glimpse of monsters fighting each other viciously, everyone scattering with fright. You saw another group of monsters raking through a pile of garbage, tearing at each other when one pulled something free and tried to eat it. You turned back to Papyrus, who was watching you take it all in. “Are you saying that, if there was a sure way for you to free the people you loved from a prison like this, you wouldn’t do it by any means necessary?”

Your jaw clenched with restrained emotion. You weren’t going to allow yourself to be manipulated like that. You weren’t going to feel sorry for the monsters who were going to piece you apart and use you like cattle. “No. I wouldn’t. Because I’m not a monster.”

Papyrus gave you an amused, sympathetic look. “You don’t have to pretend with me, Frisk. You were the one who told me how your life was, before you fell. You were the one who told me the things you had to do to survive.”

“Well, _goddammit_ , Papyrus, what the hell am I supposed to say?!” you exclaimed, slamming your fist on the seat beside you. “ _Yes_ , okay, yes I would do exactly what you’ve done, if it meant I could save someone I loved! I wish I could do it, even now! I wish every day I hadn’t listened to my sister back then; if I could go back, I’d go to the village and I’d—I’d—” You stopped, shaking with regret. You knew in your heart exactly what you’d do, but you didn’t want Papyrus thinking of you as a killer. Even now, even after everything, you still didn’t want him thinking badly of you.

“Believe me,” Papyrus said after giving you a moment to collect yourself. He had a dark, but still amused look. “I understand.”

And you knew then that he really did.

You felt warmth gather across your face, and you sighed, slumping childishly in your seat. “This sucks.”

Papyrus laughed. “Yes, it does!” He shook his head, smiling. “You have no idea how much this ‘sucks.’” He crossed his ankles, leaning back, his eyes closed, his voice quiet. “There’s a lot of horrible things about this job. A lot of things I’d rather not see, or do. But it has to be done. There was no one else strong enough to keep everyone in line—make everything sane again—who was also willing. The hardest part of it all isn’t keeping monsters from killing each other, or the acting, though. It’s making the decisions like this, and sticking to them.” He shrugged a shoulder. “It isn’t easy on Sans. He’s not exactly a…natural leader.”

You made a sound halfway between a growl and a sigh. “Not you, too. Look, you can’t seriously expect me to believe that he calls the shots down here. If you can’t talk about some mysterious, shadowy king who pulls your strings, then fine. But don’t patronise me with that shit, okay?”

“Okay,” he said, drawing the sound out, his voice making it clear that he thought you were being unreasonable. “But—”

“No—no buts!” you cut him off, making a sharp motion with a hand. “I don’t want to even consider someone like Sans being in control of  everyone. He’s a—a _dick_. A bully who enjoys making other people feel bad.” You snarled, feeling suddenly anxious at the thought of Sans. You wanted to punch something. “I don’t want to talk about him. I don’t want to _think_ about him.” You huffed, muttering, “Then again, maybe he _is_ in charge, ‘cause then at least it would make sense, how unhappy everyone is.”

Papyrus gave you a suspiciously knowing smile. “Everyone, or just you?”

You glared at him. “No, Papyrus, I’m _unhappy_ because I’m on the chopping block, about to be sacrificed _again_ for somebody _else’s_ happiness. It doesn’t exactly matter to me _who’s_ holding the axe, you know? The axe itself is pretty unsatisfying, in this particular scenario.” When Papyrus’s only response was to keep smiling at you, you rolled your eyes. “You’re sick, you know. Trying to gossip with me about your brother is like having a sleepover with the chicken you’re having for Christmas dinner.”

“Why would I want to talk with a chicken? You’ve got a much better chance of making my brother happy.”

You gaped at Papyrus’s sly look, before snapping back to reality and exclaiming, “Oh my _god_ , you guys are _freaks_! Both of you _need_ to stop trying to convince me to be with the other while also planning to kill me. _God_.” Papyrus laughed at the look on your face, and before you could stop yourself, you were smiling back at him. “Dammit, why does life have to be so terrible? Why couldn’t we just be friends?”

Papyrus’s smile turned sad, his brow bones lowered. “I don’t know, Frisk. Because, to be honest…I think you’re pretty neat.”

You realised in that moment that you’d forgiven Papyrus’s betrayal without even being aware of it happening. You couldn’t exactly hold a grudge for him doing what was necessary to free everyone in Underground. Besides, you’d probably done much worse on the surface than anything he had done to you. You wished he could have thrown away the deception, but you understood why he’d used it. He clearly didn’t enjoy having to be cutthroat; it was just how life was sometimes. It was a really strange feeling, knowing that you could forgive the person who was going to kill you, at best. And not only forgive, but actively want to be their friend.

It just…sucked.

“God help me, Papyrus, I think you’re pretty neat, too. I just wish things could be different. Call me crazy, but I don’t really want to die.”

As soon as the words left your lips, there was a loud crashing sound from above, as though something had fallen onto the top of the train. Both you and Papyrus startled, sitting straight in your seats and looking above you with wide eyes. You exchanged a nervous look with him when a thumping sound seemed to approach the roof over your head, and then stop. You opened your mouth to ask Papyrus if this was part of the plan, but the only thing that you managed was a scream of fright as a glowing blue spear stabbed through the roof, the head of it stopping inches from your face.

As it was ripped back through the roof, you scrambled to move from your seat to where Papyrus now stood at the door, taking you in his arms and holding you protectively. You stared with wide eyes at the hole, jumping when another spear struck the place you’d just been sitting. If you hadn’t moved, you’d be a Frisk kebab now.

“Papyrus, what the fuck is that!?” you shouted, your hand rooting blindly for the handle of the compartment door behind you.

“That is trouble,” Papyrus said, sounding just as unnerved as you were. When a third spear slammed through the ceiling, closer to your current position, your hand suddenly found the handle and you both burst through the doors, falling into the corridor. You stumbled and caught yourself against the row of windows, gulping in air as your heart galloped. You bowed your head slightly, trying to get a grip on yourself, but when Papyrus made a funny squeaking sound, you looked up with wide, terrified eyes.

There, just on the other side of the windows—holding to the roof of the train with one hand and bracing her booted feet against the side, a spear ready in her free hand—was your attacker. She appeared to be a humanoid fish, with blue skin and red hair. A patch covered one of her eyes, the other yellow and black and wide, her smile gleefully toothy as she turned on you. 

“GET DOWN!”

Papyrus shoved you to the ground, just in time to see the assassin’s spears rocket overhead, the impact shattering all of the glass in the train car. You raised your hands to protect yourself from the falling shards before Papyrus hauled you to your feet and pushed you towards the rear of the train.

“Run, Frisk! I will try to hold her off.”

You turned to face Papyrus. He was looking out of the window in the direction of the assailant, casually brushing bits of broken glass off his suit. You noticed an electric blue fire climbing up his arm, though the markings on his hand were glowing a fiery shade of red. He winced slightly before he held his hand palm down in front of him, a long, sturdy-looking bone suddenly materialising. He was wielding it like a baton, his eyes darting around the exterior of the car before alighting again on you.

“Miss Frisk, please, Undyne is very dangerous, you must go!”

You nodded, a little shellshocked, and started running through the train in the direction Papyrus had told you. Almost immediately after you started moving, you once again heard the heavy footsteps on the roof of the train, chasing you down. Your heart was pounding and you pulled frantically for air as you rushed through the train. Your eyes were dashing around the train cars as you crashed through the startled groups of monsters in each, panic spreading throughout the train. You heard the sound of metal being pierced and a rush of air behind you, but you didn’t look back. Oh god, she was getting closer with each spear.

_Where the hell was Sans?_

The thought came unbidden, and you shook your head once, powering ahead as fast as your legs would take you. To your horror, you heard the footsteps above quicken their beat, and pass overhead. Shit, she was fast. Had she just been messing with you until now? You hadn’t the time to think about it before a volley of spears burst through the roof on a slant toward you. Acting on instinct, you threw yourself low and forward, tucking into a roll and using your momentum to push yourself to your feet and back into your sprint. You glanced over your shoulder to see the spears embedded in the floor. Hah!You’d dodged her. 

You pushed your way past more panicking monsters in the next car, and as you burst through the door at the end you met the fresh air, shouting with alarm as you nearly careened over the guardrail. Nowhere else to run. _Fuck_! You reeled around to face your fate, your mind racing. The train wasn’t moving incredibly fast, but you weren’t certain you’d survive a drop onto the trackside. On the other hand, you weren’t certain you’d survive a head-on encounter with Undyne either. You heard footsteps approaching. This was it. You had to choose now: fight or flight.

“Miss Frisk!”

You let out a shaky breath when you spotted Papyrus standing on top of the train above you, perfectly still despite the rocking of the car, the hem of his suit jacket fluttering in the breeze. You grinned wide with relief.

“Papyrus! Did—did you get her?”

“Ah, unfortunately not. I thought she came this way.”

“She was chasing me. Maybe she ran away?”

“Retreat? No, that’s not at all like Undyne.” His brow bones settled into a bemused expression, before shooting up in shock, his head swinging to face the front of the train. “Oh my God, she wouldn’t—FRISK! GET BACK INSIDE AND BRACE YOURSELF!”

You heart was really galloping, then. You pulled yourself back inside just in time to hear a loud boom from the front of the train, a shockwave passing through your body as the train lurched hard to one side with a horrifying screech. The monsters in the car screamed as the train rolled over on itself, throwing you and everyone else like rag dolls. You felt your feet leave the floor and the rush of cool air against your face as your eyes closed tight, and then everything went black.

When you opened your eyes, you were on your back, staring up at the cave ceiling high above, spangled with glowing gems like a brilliant night sky. You were partially laying in a pool of water, vines and pink petals floating at your fingertips. You thought you heard whispering from behind you, but when you turned to look through fuzzy, narrowed eyes, you only saw a field of swaying blue flowers, standing tall. You groaned softly and rolled over onto your hands and knees, your hair falling over your shoulders and down into the water, floating there. Oh, God, your head was not happy with you one bit.

You looked around and saw the train was a little bit away, still on its side. Monsters were climbing from the windows and helping others out behind them, grouping together and checking to see if everyone was okay. There were some who looked a bit hurt, but surprisingly, nobody seemed to have died in the crash, that you could see. That helped ease your guilt, at least. Even though it wasn’t the slightest bit your fault someone had been trying to kill you, it still would have made you feel horrible to find out someone else had died because of it.

“Frisk? Frisk?!” you heard Papyrus calling, but you couldn’t see him anywhere. You grunted and tried to haul yourself up, but got dizzy and had to kneel for a minute. You took deep breaths to steady yourself. Okay. So, probably not a concussion, but definitely not a good knock to the head. You would feel it in the morning, unless you got some monster food in you.

“bro, you okay?” Sans’s voice, laced with concern, drifted from a little farther away. “where’s frisk?”

Shaking your head slightly to clear the fuzziness, you braced yourself and stood again, standing still until you no longer felt faint. You winced, holding a hand to your head. Goddamn, why did you have to keep hurting yourself like this?

“I don’t know, she—she was at the back of the train when Undyne—“

“okay, but where is she _now_? i’ve looked all down the train for her.”

You headed in the direction you heard their voices coming from, taking it slow at first, but finding your footing as you neared the back of the train.

“Maybe she was—“

“—killed? Yeah, that’s kinda what I was hoping for!” Papyrus was interrupted by a voice you didn’t recognise, rough and boisterous. You could only figure it was Undyne. Sure enough, as you rounded the corner, the fish-like woman was standing with her arms crossed, opposite the two brothers, Papyrus climbing over the train from the other side. Sans’s left eye was glowing steadily as he approached Undyne, who stood nearly two feet taller than him. She might have even been as tall as Papyrus. She had lean, wiry muscle all over, emphasised by her outfit of a black vest with matching trousers made of heavy canvas, the hems tucked into her tall boots. With her long red ponytail blowing in the wind and the fierce expression on her face, she certainly cut an imposing figure.

“undyne, wanna explain yourself?” Sans asked, his casual tone belying the aggression in his stance.

“Did you just _punch a train_?” Papyrus asked, drawing up beside Sans, his voice full of incredulity.

“I don’t think there’s any explaining to do.” Undyne said, her voice bright, but her smile vicious. “Bringing a human through Waterfall without telling me first is clearly an act of aggression. It was self-defence.”

You leaned a hand against the side of the train, supporting yourself as you watched the three of them bicker. They still hadn’t even noticed you were standing less than a few yards away. You mentally snorted. If you thought it would do any good, you could have just _left_ without them even realising.

“don’t try to be cute with me.” Sans snapped. You noticed the monsters that were gathered and watching the argument suddenly began inching away visibly. “a stunt like this goes against the agreement. you know what happens to people who violate the agreement.”

“Seriously, did you just PUNCH A TRAIN?” Papyrus cried, gesturing with palms up.

“OOH, I’M SANS!” Undyne mocked, her hands fisted under her chin as she punctuated her words with hip wiggles. “I THINK I CAN DO WHATEVER I WANT, BECAUSE I’M SOOO SCARY! I ALWAYS HIDE BEHIND THE AGWEEMENT WHENEVER I DON’T GET MY WAY!” She smirked wide at the unamused look on Sans’s face. “Fuhuhu, what a JOKE.” She clapped her hands together, rubbing them as if seeing her favourite food. “Anyway, punks, if the human is dead, that means there’s a SOUL around here somewhere waiting for me. So, if you don’t mind—“ She turned to leave in the opposite direction of where you stood, and you rolled your eyes.

“Wanna talk about jokes—did you _seriously_ punch a train just because you couldn’t hit me back there?” You called, grinning cheekily when everyone turned to you with surprise. You absolutely weren’t sorry for exposing your position to Undyne—it was totally worth it to see their faces when they saw how close you’d been. “Now _that_ —that’s funny.”

Undyne’s eye flashed as she licked her lips with anticipation. “You’re _mine_ , human!” She dropped into a battle stance, readying a spear to throw at you, when Sans dashed forward and grabbed her wrist, causing her to drop the spear with surprise.

“yeah, that’s not gonna happen,” he said with a smile as you hobbled up to Papyrus, stopping level with him. “see, that’s _my_ human, and i intend to keep it that way.”

Your lip curled with distaste, and you threw a look up at Papyrus, who shrugged lightly, an apologetic smile on his face.

“Oh yeah? Wanna fight me for it, little man?” She rounded on Sans, irritation clear in her voice, yanking at the arm he held. 

Sans shrugged, letting go of her wrist and pushing his hands back into his pockets. “sure. what are your terms?”

“Single combat, no weapons, shields allowed. Loser’s the first to call for mercy or…you know.” She grinned, baring her fangs.

“suits me,” Sans said, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck this way and that. He glanced back in your direction, his posture dripping with overconfidence. “papyrus, make sure the human doesn’t do anything stupid while I take care of this.”

You gave Papyrus another look, and he just gave you a minute shake of his head in return. Sans let out an exaggerated sigh and looked back to Undyne lazily. “alright, let’s get this over wi—“

He was interrupted by Undyne’s fist connecting with his jaw with such ferocity that you felt the impact through the ground, sending him hurtling at an angle, skidding and rolling.

“Oh _damn_!” you exclaimed, trying your best not to burst out laughing at Sans being cut down to size so mercilessly. Papyrus was giving you a scolding eye, and you responded with a grin and a shrug. “What? Sorry, but that was pretty brutal.”

You turned back to the ‘fight’ to see Sans push himself back up to his feet, his jaw hanging loosely at an odd angle. He casually reached up and forced the bone back into place with a loud crack, shaking the dust from his clothes. You winced; as much of a dick as he was, that looked painful. He grinned wide. “huh. that sure was something. maybe this’ll be fun after all.”

“Do you ever SHUT UP?” Undyne growled, her fists raised. “Fight me!”

Sans winked, shrugging with his hands palm up. “gotta play to my audience.” He exhaled slowly and closed his eyes. “fine. don’t blink.”

And then the real fight began. You stood close to Papyrus, fully ready to be bored out of your mind while Sans and Undyne slapped at each other over which one of them got the honour of murdering you. As Sans spoke, you rolled your eyes, but when you looked back to Undyne, he was already there, fist slamming into her side, and when she swung for him, he was at her back, kicking her hard in the spine. She stumbled forward, and he was there again, meeting her chest with an uppercut that sent her reeling, the markings on his arm smouldering with a crackling blue fire.

You were suddenly incredibly interested.

You watched with fervent attention, your eyes following Sans as best as you could as he continued to jump around Undyne faster than you could keep up, landing small but effective blows against her. You couldn’t tell exactly what he was doing, but it seemed as though he was leaping through space in the blink of an eye. So _that_ was what he’d done to you when you’d tried to kill him. 

What a _cheater_.

Still. A part of you—an embarrassingly large part of you—was hopelessly impressed. Undyne was blocking him with a glowing green shield, now, but she was obviously against the ropes. He was simply too fast to attack head-on. She didn’t look the slightest bit perturbed by the effort, though, and you wondered if she had something up her sleeve. You threw a quick glance at Papyrus, and saw that he was looking tense, his eyes wide and his arms crossed, his brow bones pulling together. You didn’t know if he was concerned for Sans or if he was worried Sans would end up killing Undyne, but you wanted to give him a pat on the shoulder either way.

The only sound in the cave room was the echo of the fight, the other monsters deathly quiet as they watched from afar, some of them clinging to one another. You wondered if they were worried for themselves or the fighters. You thought that if you were watching the human equivalent of two such powerful people throwing punches at each other, _you’d_ be a little worried, too. As it was, no matter who won this fight, you were dead anyway, so what did you care?

You didn’t waste too much time on the monsters, though, as the fight inexorably drew your gaze. Undyne was now in a crouch behind her shield, her eyes narrowed and wary, and as Sans went for a powerful-looking strike to the back of her legs, she suddenly dodged and grabbed hold of Sans’s wrist, pulling him across her hip and slamming him to the ground with a resounding crash. You flinched, unconsciously tense as Undyne leapt on him, pinning him and pounding the back of his head with her fist, her shield gone. You startled and crossed your arms uncomfortably, holding an elbow with one hand while the other twitched toward your chest when you thought you heard a crack. 

You were just about to ask Papyrus why he wasn’t stopping them when a light burst from Sans’s left hand and Undyne flew into the air, looking as though she was falling up, her arms flailing. Just as her back slammed against the ceiling, Sans was upright again, his hand above his head. He thrust it toward the ground, causing Undyne to hurtle downward incredibly fast, slamming into the earth with enough force to kick up a great cloud of dust. You couldn’t help a small smile, then, Papyrus looking similarly impressed. Sans, however, was still in a loose battle stance, looking as though he was ready to dodge at any time. 

When the dust settled, Undyne was lying on the ground, not moving. Sans blinked over to where she lay and immediately planted his foot squarely on her sternum, applying enough pressure to make her cry out in pain. He grinned. “knew that wouldn’t be enough for ya, pond scum.” He dug his heel in viciously. “c’mon, just make this easy on yourself and give up.”

Undyne just grinned and twisted violently to one side, sweeping Sans’s legs from underneath him with a wide kick. She swung herself around to his back, locking one arm around his neck, the other gripping his head. Sans was obviously in pain, his fingers clawing at Undyne’s hands, but to no avail. She had him firmly locked down, seemingly trying to pull his head clean off with the amount of effort she was using.

She laughed, breathing hard. “Did you really think I’d—give up that easily—short stack? I’m gonna have your head _and_ your human if you don’t just—give UP already!” She wrenched back as she spoke.

Sans was starting to look visibly distressed, as his neck made sickening cracks and pops with the sheer force of Undyne’s strength. You covered your mouth involuntarily and looked to Papyrus, wondering if he’d call the fight off, now. He still just stood with his arms crossed, however, seemingly waiting for something. You forced yourself to look back to the struggle, but Undyne still had the upper hand. Sans was scraping his heel against the ground, trying to get to his feet from his seated position, which was proving difficult with Undyne’s knee squarely in his back. 

Eventually, though, he managed to get both feet firmly on the ground, bending his knees and launching himself and Undyne with enough force to slam her onto her back. Freed from her grip, he rolled into a squat as Undyne righted herself, launching at her without hesitation. Grabbing her wrist and twisting her arm behind her back, he pushed her hand out at a painful-looking angle. They were both visibly panting with effort by now as Undyne cried out with pain, desperation in her eyes.

“Ugh—you—little SHIT! You won’t—ever defeat me! NGAHHH!”

With that, she twisted her body _into_ Sans’s arm hold, her arm breaking with a sickening snap in order to level a heavy blow at Sans. She caught him right in the ribs and knocked him away, his feet skidding along the ground, but he still remained upright. She leapt away opposite him, her arm hanging loose and useless at her side. Sans was holding his ribs, but he chuckled.

“you gotta be kidding me. no way you’re fighting with a broken arm.”

Undyne laughed again, slumped over slightly. “That’s where you’re wrong, little man. Let’s finish this!” Undyne dropped back into her battle stance, sprinting directly towards Sans, her fist raised for a final blow. There was a brief rush of air as Sans blinked himself directly into her path, too low for her to hit. His own fist raised, he turned his hips to put all his weight and her momentum into a devastating punch right into Undyne’s chest. She was lifted from the ground with the force of the impact, and you felt the shockwave from where you were standing. 

She tumbled to the ground in a heap, and you thought for certain that was the end of it. However, despite everything, she still managed to push herself onto one knee, her whole body shaking with the effort it took to right herself even that much. Sans was immediately in front of her.

“Ah…shit…you got me, you little punk,” Undyne gasped, swaying.

“is that your way of asking for mercy?” Sans asked, obviously amused.

“N-no way. I’d rather _die_. Just…kill me already. Do it quick.” Undyne’s eye was fierce as she looked up to Sans, her teeth bared.

“man, why does everyone keep saying that?” Sans said, shaking his head, and you felt yourself flush at the reminder of your own words. “nah, i’m not gonna kill you. wouldn’t wanna break the agreement.” He winked.

Undyne exhaled raggedly at that, trying to pull herself up to her full height but stumbling back onto her knees. Sans shrugged, before throwing his full weight behind a head-butt straight between Undyne’s eyes, which connected with a horrible crunch, knocking her onto her back. She didn’t get up this time. Papyrus jogged over to her side, lifting the wrist of her unbroken arm, which dangled before he let it drop with a thump. She was either out cold, or dead. 

Sans had won.

A cheer rose up from the monsters behind you, loud and wild, and you found yourself struggling not to join in at least a little bit. You watched Papyrus pick up Undyne and sling her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, her arms swinging. He turned to the monsters, then, holding up his free hand and calling out,

“ALRIGHT, EVERYONE—SHOW’S OVER! LET’S ALL JUST KEEPING HEADING DOWN THE TRACKS THE OLD FASHIONED WAY! WE’LL TAKE CARE OF THIS MESS.”

The monsters obliged happily, seemingly energised by the fight, as everyone was now smiling and chatting with each other as they continued forward on foot. You blinked at that, wondering how Underground managed to mirror the surface so well. Humans loved to watch a fight, too, no matter how peaceful or happy they were. But when there was war and strife, it seemed to be even more appreciated. You supposed it was all about relieving the nervous tension in a harmless way—to the viewer, at least.

When only the stragglers were left, you heard Papyrus sigh and say, “I suppose we’re making a detour to Dr. Alphys, then.” You looked back to him as he threw a nagging, sidelong glance to Sans, hitching Undyne higher. “I don’t suppose you could have finished that fight any other way?”

Sans just produced a cigarette, tucking it between his teeth and striking a match, holding it to the tip, his eyes bright as he looked silently up at his brother.

Papyrus sighed again. “Right, okay, guess I’m making some phone calls on the way. _Thanks_ , buddy.”

Sans was grinning. “no problem.” His eyes slid to yours, then, and his smile fell as you met his gaze. Something passed between you, tense and complicated, and you both looked away. “hey, uh, we’ll catch up in a bit, okay?” Sans said to Papyrus, his voice full of forced cheer.

Papyrus glanced between you before raising his brow bones at you questioningly. You shrugged dismissively. “Go ahead, we’ll only be a second.”

With a nod and another significant look for his brother, Papyrus shifted Undyne and set off. You watched him for a little bit, unwilling to look back to Sans just yet. You needed to be ready for whatever nasty thing he had to say to you. You pulled yourself together, drawing up to your full height and crossing your arms over your chest. You glanced back to Sans hesitantly, your eyes settling fully on him when you saw he was watching you, seemingly just waiting.

You just locked eyes for several moments before he slipped the cigarette from his mouth and hooked his thumbs in his trouser pockets. “you okay?” he asked, his voice soft.

Your head snapped back slightly, your eyebrows pulling together. You hadn’t expected that. You didn’t have anything clever to say to that.

Damn him.

“What do you think?” you retorted, your voice flat.

“’s’just that i know undyne can be pretty intimidating.”

You stared with an eyebrow lifted for a moment before snorting softly. “Not really bothered about Undyne, to be honest. At least she attacked me head-on. Gotta admire that, even if I don’t appreciate the attempt on my life.”

Sans’s eyes dimmed for a moment, but all he said was, “oh,” and looked away, lifting the cigarette back to his mouth. His hands were trembling.

Your stomach twisted in a knot at the sight, and you took a step before hesitating. “Hey…better question is, are _you_ okay?”

“i’m fine,” he said, his voice casual, but his eyes snapped back to yours. You gave him a look.

“Sans.”

He slumped forward slightly. “heh. there’s no foolin’ you, huh?” He paused, and you had the thought that he’d fooled you plenty, already. He spoke again, and you were surprised at how tentative his voice was. “you _were_ watching, i guess.”

You opened your mouth to bite back that of _course_ you were watching, what else did he think you were going to do while he was busy posturing and boasting and getting himself hurt, making you worry for him when you should really be cheering Undyne on—and then it hit you. The well-hidden, but definite nervous turn of his gaze, the way he was smoking as though his life depended on it, even the fact that he’d tried to lie about his injuries.

He had done all of that for _you_.

He was trying to _impress_ you.

Your mouth snapped shut again, and your eyes narrowed. How _dare_ he try to manipulate you like that? Did he really think you’d be so impressed by him after one fight that you’d just ignore what he’d done to you the night before? Did he _actually_ think you were so stupid that you’d just forget how violently he swung back and forth between his emotions for you?

You weren’t about to fall at his feet because he made your heart race with excitement at his strength. You weren’t going to watch him shifting as though he didn’t know how to present himself to you, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. You weren’t going to think about how the first thing he’d asked was whether or not you were okay, his eyes searching yours to see if you understood what he was really trying to say.

You _weren’t_.

You pressed your arms tight to yourself, clinging to your shirt. He had _hurt_ you. You couldn’t forgive him, as you had Papyrus. You could understand why Papyrus had done what he’d done, and it was clear that he hadn’t enjoyed doing it. But…what Sans had done…it hadn’t been necessary. 

It had been _cruel_. 

Your heart whispered that you could forgive him, anyway. You could see that he was sorry for what he’d said the night before, and it was painfully obvious that he was struggling with his conflicting feelings for you. You stared him down, his eyes asking for you to understand, and you knew that he would apologise to you, given the chance. If you cared enough to give him the chance.

Hell, he might even have a good reason for blowing hot and cold so badly.

But…

You found that you simply _didn’t_ care enough to _ask_ him to apologise. If he was truly sorry, he would do it himself.

“Sans,” you said, then, your mind clear and calm. “I’m going to tell you something, and I want you to listen carefully, because it’s important.”

You waited for him to respond, but he only shifted again, his eyes bright and attentive.

“I am not _your_ human.”

He winced, and looked away, and you took heart at that.

“You can’t earn my respect by flashing your magic around, acting like you’re the boss down here.” When he opened his mouth, you held up a hand. “I know what you and Papyrus have to say about that. But to be frank, the reason _why_ I didn’t believe you are the leader is _because_ you don’t lead. Now, I don’t know what you were like when all of this started. You may have actually been the person you obviously hoped I’d see when you fought Undyne.

“But strength isn’t enough. Not for me. The elder of my village was strong—strong enough that he had everyone convinced that murder was a good thing—but that didn’t stop me from hating him. In fact, _because_ he was so strong, it made it worse that he would frighten those weaker than him into serving him. Strength should never be abused. A leader should never forget that his actions—or inaction—speak louder than anything he could ever say.”

You took a breath, looking down to your hands briefly before turning your gaze back to Sans, who looked at once pained and guilty. You wanted to feel bad for him, but not as much as you wanted to make him understand.

“I _know_ there’s something between us, Sans. I’m starting to accept that I was probably projecting onto Papyrus the things that I was attracted to in _you_.” The lights in Sans’s eyes glowed brighter for a brief moment, and you saw a smirk pull at the corners of his mouth before you cut him off with, “But that doesn’t mean you can treat me however you want and think I’ll just take it.”

“i don’t—”

“ _Yes_ , Sans, you obviously do,” you interrupted him, heat in your words at the memory of the night before. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have—” You gestured angrily, shaking your head. “You just wouldn’t have! And then, to do something like that and think you can get on my good side with your little show? You just _don’t get it_.”

You took another deep breath, steeling yourself. Your voice was quiet, but determined when you continued. “And you _won’t_ get it. Not until you sort your shit out.”

When he realised you were waiting for a response, he blinked, and dropped the cigarette he had obviously forgotten about while you’d told him off. He reached for another, looking as though he found comfort in the familiar motion. You could tell he was thinking, though, in the way his eyes danced. When the new cigarette was lit, he turned back to you, no hint of a smile on his face.

“i can work on that.” His voice had a mask of carelessness to it, but you could hear a note of his own resolve below that.

You nodded, forcing your clenched hands to relax. “Okay. But until then, I’m going to need you to do me a favour.” 

He raised his brow bones. “yeah?”

You stared deep in his eyes, hoping he understood just how serious you were.

“Leave me the _fuck_ alone.”

After a final beat of eye contact, you turned on your heel and started walking along the train tracks, following in Papyrus’s footsteps.


	7. The Body

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk sees a familiar face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oopswait how's the humnan doing
> 
> Sorry this one took a bit longer to get out! Everyone is siiick. Thank you all so much for reading, though! It's kept me writing through this cold.

You could feel a cool breeze wafting through the lab’s automatic doors, and you were literally salivating at the thought of being inside that building. It was almost erotic, the desire to be out of the hellish landscape of Hotland.

“papyrus shouldn’t be too much longer,” Sans said, glancing over at you from where he sat on a large boulder against the wall of the lab. You resisted the urge to poke your tongue out at him; he had obviously spotted you inching toward the doors. “why don’t you sit?”

You swiped a hand over your forehead, making a face at how sweaty you were. You’d already taken off your jacket and tossed it aside as you paced back and forth, but it hadn’t helped much. Your home on the surface had never been anywhere close to this hot; your body was not prepared.

“Why don’t _you_ sit?” you bit back, then stopped in your tracks, pinching the bridge of your nose and sighing. “Good one, Frisk,” you muttered to yourself. You saw Sans smiling out of the corner of your eye when you shook your head. You thought you’d let him have that one, especially as he wasn’t even trying to make fun of you for it.

You wished you hadn’t agreed to wait for Papyrus outside of this Dr. Alphys’s lab. You wished you hadn’t even agreed to have Sans zap the both of you directly to the lab. It had certainly saved your feet, but when you’d gone to enter the lab, the lights were out, and no one had answered Sans’s calls. He’d seemed reluctant to go in without Papyrus, for some reason, so you’d suggested waiting outside, foolishly thinking it wouldn’t be that long.

You neglected to consider that ‘not that long’ next to _actual lava_ might lead to extreme discomfort for you.

It was alright for Sans; he was a goddamn skeleton. He’d just hopped up on his rock and started kicking his legs like you were on a picnic in the park, his eyes downturned. He clearly wasn’t bothered by the heat in the slightest. You’d become a _little_ cranky as the minutes ticked by, until you were actually considering pushing him off that stupid rock, just to see what he’d do.

God, you needed a distraction.

But there was literally _nothing_ else around. There weren’t any monsters going anywhere close to the lab’s entrance, and your sullen mood had erased any curiosity you might have had about the sudden changes in Underground’s biomes. It wasn’t like you would have asked Sans, anyway. Your anger at him _had_ pretty much fled immediately after he had caught up to you on the tracks, asking in a quiet voice if you wanted to take a short cut to the lab. But you still couldn’t bring yourself to just chat with him like nothing was wrong, even so. As it was, you’d just ended up sitting in complete silence, in the boiling heat, muttering curses in your head at how the mountain just kept getting better the further in you went. What next? A city composed entirely of hurricanes?

You exhaled a disgusted puff of air, whirling on Sans. “How can you just sit there and say nothing?” you exclaimed.

He looked up in surprise, his eyes wide. “what do want me to say? i’m leaving you alone.”

“Ugh!” You ran your hands through your slightly damp hair. Dammit, he _was_ actually leaving you alone. What a dick. Only, he wasn’t. It was actually kind of sweet that he seemed to have taken your words to heart. But oh, man, it wasn’t fair that the one time you could have used his snark to distract yourself, you had told him off only just before. After that, your pacing drew you closer and closer to the open doors. You could _smell_ the air conditioning. It was like torture.

“trust me, you don’t wanna go in there,” Sans called to you, his voice friendly. “alphys has some pretty intense security.”

You ignored him, stopping just outside the entrance and peering into the dimly lit foyer. What could possibly be inside that was bad enough to let yourself fry? Nothing, that’s what. You felt yourself leaning closer unconsciously, the cool air too much of a temptation. Really, what could happen to you when Sans was right there? If you just slipped inside for a minute, surely nothing too bad would happen.

You wavered on the spot before muttering, “Fuck it,” and striding past the threshold, pausing as soon as your skin hit the cold air. You took a deep breath, your head falling back, a smile on your face. You took another few steps in and leaned against the cold, metal wall, groaning softly with relief. You stayed that way long enough for your skin to stop feeling like it was melting off. Then came the sudden, grating sound of metal scraping against metal, and you opened your eyes again to see Sans standing in the doorway.

“oh, man. hope it was worth it.”

You smiled wider. “Oh, it was,” you said languidly.

You heard heavy, menacing footsteps approaching.

“totally up to you,” Sans said in a helpful tone of voice, “but i recommend getting behind me.”

You shrugged and made your way back to Sans with a spring in your step. You weren’t sorry. As soon as you were behind him, a tall, slender figure appeared from the dark, silhouetted against a sudden strong light. You wondered where that spotlight had come from, and was that fog rolling in around their feet? He spoke then, with a smooth, deep masculine voice that also had a strangely synthetic quality.

“A human…? In the great Dr. Alphys’s lab?” The figure scoffed lightly. “This simply won’t do.”

Sans held his hands out. “no, look—we called ahead. didn’t you get the memo?”

“Do I look like a fax machine to you?” The figure asked, sounding deeply offended with a fist raised in front of him, trembling dramatically.

“well I mean—”

Without warning, the figure lunged at Sans, his hand flat, as though he struck to pierce through him. Just before Sans took your hand and dodged both of you away, you could make out the attacker’s perfectly fitted white tuxedo, and his features: black eyes framed by soft waves of black hair, with the countenance of a particularly beautiful man or an especially fierce woman, only with a metallic sheen to his face. He also had what looked like…panelling beneath his left eye. You spun around from your new position, eyes wide with excitement.

“Oh, my God, are you a robot?!” you exclaimed.

When the attacker turned, he was already aiming another strike at Sans, but he was dazzling you with a charming grin. “You know, I’ve never actually been asked that before!” Sans dodged again, seemingly trying to draw attention from you. The attacker held a fingertip to his chin thoughtfully. “I suppose I’m technically an android, but that’s a wonderful question. One second, darling.” He levelled a straight-footed kick towards Sans, his pointed high-heeled boots narrowly missing the skeleton’s face as he dodged again.

“what the hell are you doing, mettaton?” Sans shouted in disbelief.

The android, Mettaton, flopped his head back dismissively towards Sans, narrowing his eyes. “I _always_ have time for fans.” He snapped back to face you eagerly, his eyes wide with anticipation. “You _are_ a fan, aren’t you, beautiful?”

“Uh, yeah!” you said without hesitation. “I don’t actually know who you _are_ , but I think you’re awesome.”

Mettaton’s face fell into a neutral expression, the sparkle in his eyes disappearing. “Oh. You don’t know who I am.” He turned his face slightly, into the darkness.

You held your hands up. “Hey, no—it’s only ‘cause I’m from the surface! Trust me, if I knew you, I’d have your poster on my bedroom wall. Robots are _so cool_.”

Mettaton’s face brightened momentarily at that before he glared at Sans, hissing, “So. You didn’t tell a potential fan about me.” He leaned closer to Sans ominously. “She would have had my _poster_ on her _wall_.”

Sans’s hands were at a half-shrug, his brow bones raising in the middle. “why would i ever think—i mean—i _tried_ to, but—”

You gasped indignantly, pointing at him accusatorily. “ _Liar_.”

“i _told you_ alphys had—”

“Sans, if the words ‘there is a _robot_ waiting for you inside’ never entered the conversation, then you did not tell me,” you said, hands on hips as you stood next to Mettaton, leaning towards Sans for emphasis, as well.

Mettaton held a hand over where his heart would be, as though wounded. “Sans. That hurts.” His eyes glinted before a manic grin spread across his face. “But not as much as this will!” He reared back to strike again, but the sound of the automatic doors sliding open made him freeze, his head whipping around to see who was entering.

“Sorry I’m late, Undyne’s a lot heavier than she looks.” Papyrus’s voice drifted in, and you turned to see him step through the entrance and flip a switch at the wall, the lights turning on overhead.  He caught sight of the three of you standing together, Mettaton’s fist still poised to strike. “Oh. Mettaton.”

Mettaton snapped to attention beside you, a sultry smile on his lips. “Hello, Papyrus,” he purred.

Papyrus strode confidently to where you stood, dropping Undyne unceremoniously in an office chair and drawing himself up opposite Mettaton, their faces close together. You could feel the tension instantly, and you were worried you were going to be caught in another fight. You tried to tell Papyrus that everything was okay, but he cut you off with a hand held out.

“Don’t worry, Miss Frisk. You and Sans take Undyne and go ahead. I’ll take care of Mettaton,” he said, his voice sure and serious.

“Oh, I do hope so,” Mettaton said lazily, smirking. “So, this is the human you’ve been… _busy_ with.”

“That’s right. Do you have a problem with that?” Papyrus asked, his brows lowered.

“Mmm, I’m not sure. Do I?” Mettaton flicked his hair back, his tongue flicking across his lips.

Sans briskly slung Undyne over his shoulders fireman style and grabbed your hand. “okay, we’re outta here.” His voice was unusually loud and clipped, and he just about dragged you away. You looked back over your shoulder, eyebrows knitted together.

“Wait, I wanted to talk to the robot!” you whined.

“trust me, we don’t wanna stick around for this.” The urgency in his voice made you think that you’d underestimated the danger present. You supposed it was better that you were leaving, but you still really wanted to talk to Mettaton. As you were pulled through another door, you saw Papyrus and Mettaton facing off as though they were about to lunge at one another.

“Man, I hope Papyrus is gonna be okay,” you said as the door closed behind you, turning to glance around the lobby-like room you were now in. There was a red cloth couch and a row of matching plastic chairs against one wall, a vending machine opposite them, and potted plants dotting the room. It looked like any other waiting room you had been in, only without all the miserable people coughing on you.

Sans flopped Undyne onto the couch, turning back to you with a grimace. “i, uh. i’m sure he’ll be fine.”

You were going to ask him how he was so sure, if he’d thought it was too dangerous for you to stay, but then your brain caught up. The tension, the looks, their body language… “ _Oh_.” You smiled wide, your eyebrows raised as you slipped your hands into your pockets, rocking forward onto the balls of your feet. “Good for him. Mettaton’s pretty sexy.”

“Thanks, I worked really hard on him,” a nasally, feminine voice said from behind you. You turned to see a small, yellow, dinosaur-like monster shuffling into the room, wearing a dirty white lab coat and glasses. She gave you a quick once-over, her eyes almost clinical in her appraisal. “So you’re the human that’s gotten everyone ruffled.” She held a hand out to you and you took it politely, meeting her gaze. She grinned crookedly. “I’m Alphys.” You introduced yourself as well, returning the smile.

“she’s the royal scientist,” Sans said, shrugging when you raised your eyebrows at him. “whatever that means anymore.”

“He’s only saying that because he wasn’t good enough to get the job,” Alphys said, smirking over at Sans, who shoved his hands in his trouser pockets sullenly.

“damn, alphys, you too? what, is it ‘shit on sans day?’”

Alphys looked unimpressed. “Every day is ‘shit on Sans’ day when you _act_ like a shit.”

A smile tugged at your lips, and you glanced at Sans, nudging him lightly. “I like her.”

Alphys turned back to you when you spoke. “So, Papyrus has told me some interesting things about you.”

Your smile faltered for a moment. “Did he?”

She waved a hand. “Don’t worry—he left out the personal stuff. I’m not really interested in that, anyway.” She inched closer, her eyes intent on your chest. You frowned for a moment, wondering why she was staring at your breasts before you remembered the heart-shaped soul inside you. Wow, it must really be valuable, if it made her look at you like that. You were pretty uncomfortable with her being so close when she looked like she’d be happy to cut you open right then and there. You found yourself leaning away slightly, still trying not to be rude.

“alphys.”

Alphys’s eyes snapped over to Sans at his deep, warning tone. She smiled wide. “Don’t worry, Sans. I’m just curious. Not going to hurt your pet.” She glanced back to you for a moment. “Even if it _would_ be easier if you just took her SOUL out now.”

Sans looked annoyed at that, his lids lowered at Alphys. You took a step back, holding a hand out. “Wait, wait, back up. What do you mean?” You looked between them.

“Oh? Do you not know? Did Sans tell you a little white lie?” Alphys asked, her voice carefully nonchalant, but her eyes were bright as she looked directly at Sans. He was practically glaring at her. “Let me guess—he told you that he had to keep you alive to use your SOUL?”

“Close enough,” you said, your voice getting an edge to it.

Alphys laughed. “Knew it. You’re so predictable, Sans.”

“shut _up_ , alphys.” Sans was definitely annoyed now.

“Or what? I’m not scared of you,” she said, giggling. “You can have fun playing house with her if you want, but she deserves to know.” She ignored Sans’s protests. “He may have told you we need you alive, but to be perfectly honest, it would make things so much easier if we just killed you right now.”

You threw a narrow-eyed look to Sans. “Is that true?”

“no, frisk, listen—it isn’t what you’re thinking.”

“Oh, yeah? Because what I’m thinking is, you were just keeping me alive for fun.” You crossed your arms.

“no, i _have_ a plan!” Sans explained. 

“Yeah, I’ve heard it, but what do I care? The outcome is still the same, right? So why drag it out for me if not for your own fun?” you pointed out.

“no—we don’t— _know_ —if the outcome is going to be the same,” he said, his hands out in supplication. He paused when he saw the look on your face, and his shoulder slumped slightly. “but it might be.”

You gave a weary sigh. “ _God_. You just can’t stop toying with me, can you?” He gave you a defeated look, and you turned away.

“Oh well! Looks like Sans’s little secret is out!” Alphys said, and you stomped over to the chairs and flopped down, your good mood fouled, now. So he had lied to you about something else—what a surprise. You didn’t look up from your annoyed pout when Alphys continued with, “So, now that you know…you think maybe we could just take your SOUL now?”

You made a sound of disgust. “You can _try_.”

“we’re _not_ taking her SOUL,” Sans said, exasperated.

“Come _on_ , Sans—she’s right here! We can just bring her body straight to the back after we get the SOUL—“

“alphys.”

“—and I can just get to work without having to wait around for you to go to the king, because you _know_ how much I hate waiting for you when I have that big project to finish for Toriel, and those flowers can’t be left alone for long, _Sans_ —”

“ _alphys_.”

“—and don’t act like you don’t want to know why she has magic, too! _You_ were the one who told me about it, Sans—you can’t just tell me something like that and then expect me to be okay with waiting to do my tests!”

Everything went quiet when Alphys finished, her voice loud and whining by the end. Sans finally broke the silence with, “you done?”

“Not even remotely, but I can hear Toriel out there now, and she scares me.”

You looked up at that. “Wait—Toriel? You mean that woman who helped me before Papyrus came?” Sans and Alphys both turned to you, and Sans nodded. “Why is she here?”

They exchanged a look, and Alphys shrugged. Sans sighed. “she’s one of the bosses of the districts. we have some business to discuss.”

You glanced over to where Undyne was still out, her legs flopped over the arm of the couch. “Is she another boss?”

Sans looked to the fish woman with wide eyes. “shit, I forgot about undyne. alphys, can you—?”

Alphys waved a hand. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll get her fixed up. This is like the third time this week, already.” She sighed, her eyes taking stock of Undyne’s injuries. “She never thinks about how worried I get when she rushes into fights like that. Just take her to the back.”

“thanks, alph,” Sans said, then turned to you, his smile falling at the dull look you gave him. “uh, so—will you be alright out here? papyrus will keep you company.”

“But Daddy, I don’t _need_ a babysitter!” you cried sarcastically. “I’m old enough to stay at home by myself!”

Sans made a face at that, but didn’t say anything other than, “yeah, okay. this shouldn’t take long anyway.” He took Undyne’s arm and in a blink, they were both gone.

Alphys stood in front of you, shifting from foot to foot, her eyes staring at you intensely. You blinked back at her, slumped in your chair, and she suddenly burst out,

“Hey, sorry about asking if we could kill you. Can’t blame a girl for trying.” She gave you another crooked smile, and you shrugged noncommittally, the hint of a smile tugging at your lips. “Okay! Good talk!” And then she turned and tottered away, her yellow-stained lab coat propped up by her tail.

You wondered how many other friends Sans had who would be happy to kill you at a moment’s notice. You sat in the silence thinking about that for only a few moments before Toriel entered the room, flanked by Mettaton and Papyrus, who was apologising profusely.

“…so you understand we weren’t anticipating your arrival just yet, and as such, we didn’t expect you to walk in on our…meeting.” 

Mettaton smirked wide, but didn’t say anything.

“Papyrus, I would honestly prefer not to talk about it,” Toriel replied, her voice weary yet stately. “I would like to just get this over with.” She noticed you sitting there, giving you a small, curt smile. “Oh, the human. I trust Papyrus and Sans have been looking after you well, have they not?”

You were unsure of how to greet Toriel, so you gave her a polite nod of the head and returned her smile. “For the most part, yes, thank you.”

“You certainly look happier than when I last saw you, child.”

You couldn’t argue with that. All things considered, you really did feel better than you had when you’d first fallen down. After all, having death hanging over you wasn’t anything new for you. You’d become used to living around the threat. At least you’d had time to come to terms with it. And hey, you knew your friends wouldn’t draw it out any longer than necessary. So that was nice.

You nodded and smiled a little more breezily. “I suppose I am happier, yeah. It’s nice having friends.”

Toriel looked a little taken aback by this, but still returned your smile. “That is…good. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” She turned and made her way through the automatic door to the right, into the back room. 

Papyrus let out a sigh of relief. “Boy, that could have been a lot worse. Sorry you had to bear the brunt of that awkwardness, but Mettaton and I were…caught with our pants down, so to speak.” He looked away with a cough. 

Mettaton was making a point of smoothing out his tuxedo and straightening his bow tie, a languid, satisfied smile on his face. “A few more minutes and that wouldn’t have just been a coy turn of phrase.” He winked at you, his tongue poked out cheekily, and you giggled.

“No, it’s okay. You guys clearly, uh, missed each other.”

“Absolutely, gorgeous. It had been…well, hours. Almost a day! I was wasting away!” Mettaton posed dramatically with his hand to his forehead to emphasise his point. You laughed.

Just then, you heard a loud vibration coming from Mettaton. “Ugh, one moment, beauties. Duty calls.” He held out his phone, wiggling it toward you daintily between his thumb and index finger before answering it, his voice suddenly hard and peevish. “What? Mmhmm. Oh he _did,_ did he? Well, I’ll teach him! _There’s no escaping me_!” He was growing increasingly manic until suddenly he crushed the phone in his fist like it was made of crackers, letting the pieces fall to the floor with a clatter. You and Papyrus shared a look of concern.

Mettaton turned back to you two and exhaled slowly, running his hand smoothly through his hair, leaving behind tiny bits of glass and metal. “Ah, I hate to part so suddenly, but one of the idiots in my restaurant decided to stick his head in the deep fryer.” He rolled his eyes before a cruel grin spread across his face. “I’m going to enjoy making him wish that he’d finished the job properly. Anyhoo! It was an absolute pleasure to meet you, darling. Toodles!” And with a wink and a wave, he swanned out of the door.

“Well…that certainly was…something.”

“Thanks for understanding.” 

You grinned at Papyrus as he sat next to you. “And thank you in advance for letting me fawn all over your robot boyfriend.”

You were surprised to see a small blush taint Papyrus’s cheeks. “Oh, Mettaton and I aren’t…together.”

You laughed. “Yes, you are. Even if you haven’t said it, yet—you are.”

Papyrus had his hands clenched in his lap as he leaned toward you eagerly. “You really think so?” He seemed to catch himself, then, and relaxed again. “I mean, not that it matters. I’m happy with what we have.”

You reached over and patted Papyrus’s leg bone. “Sweetheart, you couldn’t convince me of that if you held a gun to my head.” You paused, your smile slightly melancholic. “You should tell him how you feel, you know. Honesty may not be easy, but it’s the best option, most of the time.”

Papyrus nodded, a guilty look flashing across his face. “Frisk—speaking of honesty, there’s something I wanted to tell you.”

You sat up straighter. “If you’re going to tell me that you were pretending to be attracted to me, I gotta disappoint you, buddy. Cat’s already out of the bag with that one.”

Papyrus paused with his mouth open, his brows lowered. “Why would someone put a cat in a bag?” He shook his head. “No, that wasn’t what I was going to talk to you about.” You were slightly alarmed when you saw him fidget. He wasn’t exactly a fidgeter, normally. “But before I tell you, I just want you to keep in mind that we weren’t keeping this from you to try to hurt you. We just—didn’t know, and then when we did, we didn’t know how to tell you. Okay?”

“Okay,” you said, drawing the sound out. You were more than a little suspicious, now.

“Okay.” Papyrus drew in a deep breath, and stood. “Come on.”

You followed through the door opposite to where the others had gone, down a dimly-lit corridor. The click of Papyrus’s heels on the floor was the only sound, emphasising the eerie silence. The smell in the air was increasingly clinical, and the closer you got to the double doors at the end of the corridor, you could hear the low thrumming of machinery. You were beginning to feel uneasy at Papyrus’s silence. It reminded you of when you first fell down, only this time you knew for certain you could trust him.

When you reached the double doors, Papyrus turned to face you, looking more than a little uneasy himself. He opened his mouth briefly, but then paused, as if the words had suddenly left him, and stepped to one side, pushing the door open and holding it for you.

“I—I’ll be waiting for you back in the lobby, whenever you’re ready.”

You stared at him for a moment, then into the room he was gesturing you towards. You could hardly see anything from here, but the sound of machinery was much louder now. It sounded almost like…breathing?

You wanted to ask Papyrus what exactly you were about to see, but you couldn’t form the words. You weren’t even worried, necessarily. Just…full of dread. You took a deep breath and entered, throwing a nervous look up to Papyrus on the way past. He nodded and let the door swish shut behind you, the room lighting softly as you stepped further in. You headed to where the sound of breathing was, finding your own breath tight in your lungs. There were thick plastic partitions lining six spaces, the entrances shielded by a hanging sheet of opaque plastic.

They were numbered.

You approached the curtain marked with a ‘1’, heart pounding. Forget about not being worried; you were nearly choking on your anxiety. You hesitated before reaching out and pushing aside the plastic sheet, peering inside. There was a metal-framed bed, on which rested a figure covered mostly by a white sheet, apart from the head. There was a collection of tubes connected to the body, heading to various machines around the bed. You saw a thick, corrugated tube coming from the mouth of what was unmistakably a human. 

You backed away instantly, the curtain falling into place.

Sudden terror lanced through you as you took another step away. What was going on? Why had Papyrus brought you here? Were they trying to intimidate you? No, that didn’t make sense; why would they waste time with intimidation if you already knew you were going to die? There must have been some other reason, something Papyrus wanted you to see.

Or someone.

You took a few deep breaths to steady yourself as you paced back and forth on a short path. You supposed you were safe to assume there were humans in each of the numbered compartments, each kept alive by the assorted machinery. You didn’t want to see any more, though. You considered just leaving and telling Papyrus you’d changed your mind about honesty, but you needed to know. You looked around briefly for some clue as to what Papyrus had been intending you to find. You weren’t about to look in each one to see if you recognised whoever was under those sheets.

Your eyes were drawn toward one of the beds by a more intense light coming from behind the plastic curtain: number 6. You noticed that it was propped open slightly by a steel medical trolley, on which a number of instruments were arranged. Whoever was behind that curtain had been…worked with recently. It was as good a lead as any. You approached the curtain cautiously, more anxious now than the first time as you peeked behind the thick plastic. What you saw made your heart stutter with disbelief. 

Straight, brown hair; features so similar to yours; even wearing the same sweater she’d had on when you’d both died. 

Your sister. 

What the _fuck_?

You stared, dumbfounded, the sound of rushing blood in your ears, before you pushed past the curtain, going to her side immediately. You gasped softly when you saw a monitor keeping quiet tally of her still-beating heart. She was alive. She was _alive._ Why was she alive? You’d _seen_ her die. Why was she _here_? The elder’s son, her husband, had told you they’d given her a proper burial, befitting her status.  But here she was, hooked up to a bunch of machines that seemed to be keeping her alive somehow, despite everything. You noticed something else, then: a stitched up scar running along her neck from one side to the other. Oh. So that’s how it was. They’d cut her throat and dumped her in this hole like an _animal_.

You were shaking with barely restrained rage, then. How _fucking dare_ they treat your sister like that—like she was just another piece of meat to throw to the wolves? She had given them mercy, had tried to convince you they didn’t deserve to be put down like the rabid dogs they were. 

But you’d always known better.

You reached out with a trembling hand, holding it to her cheek, your eyes painfully dry. You wished you could cry to see her this way. You wanted so badly to be angry with the monsters, too. You could feel it inside you, simmering near boiling point, ready to lash out at anyone who could be blamed for this. But you knew it wasn’t the monsters’ fault. The part of her that made your sister who she was, was clearly gone. Whatever they were doing to her now, she wasn’t being hurt by it.

The villagers were the ones who deserved your hate.

You straightened again, your hands fisted at your sides as you memorised your sister’s features. You hadn’t thought you would ever see her again. To be able to was a gift you hadn’t even known you’d needed. You had made peace with her death long ago, though you never forgave her murderers. You’d wished desperately you could’ve said goodbye to her, but life wasn’t fair most of the time. At least you’d get the chance to, now, for your own peace.

You leaned down once more, touching a brief kiss to her cheek, surprised that she wasn’t cold as a body would be. You whispered that you loved her, and that you hoped you’d be with her again, soon, in whatever life waited for you after this one. You pulled away, smoothing down her hair where you had ruffled it, and gave her hand a tight squeeze.

Even though she wouldn’t be happy with you…

You knew what you had to do, now.

You strode from the room like a thunderhead, slamming through the double doors, your hair fluttering over your shoulders. You were determined now, more so than you ever had been in your life. You would march right up to Sans and tell him—

“pretty typical of tori to make such a big deal out of nothing,” Sans was saying from the lobby, the corridor echoing his words. You slowed down. “it’s not as if i’m going to let asgore take frisk.”

“It doesn’t matter what you _think_ you’ll do,” Undyne said, her deep voice sounding annoyed. “The point is, it’s too risky to go in there with a live human when nobody knows what Asgore has up his sleeve.”

“I agree,” Alphys said.

“Thanks, babe,” Undyne said.

“Uh, no problem, but I wasn’t agreeing just to support you,” Alphys said a little awkwardly. “I just think it’s much smarter to take her SOUL before going to the throne room. What if Asgore has already absorbed the other SOULs, like Toriel was suggesting?”

“Why would he absorb the SOULs but not do anything with them?” Papyrus asked.

“I don’t know. Sans, why would _you_ keep a human as a pet instead of absorbing its SOUL?” Undyne snarked.

“undyne, alphys has better things to do than to patch you up again so soon,” Sans said menacingly.

“As if I’d lose to you again, you little turd!” You could imagine Undyne’s challenging pose, then.

“If you two are gonna keep swinging your dicks around, you’re gonna have to do it somewhere else. There’s sensitive equipment in here.” Alphys sounded less than impressed.

“But he’s being so _childish_. If he would just—”

“hey.” Sans cut her off, and you heard an edge to his voice that struck you with surprise. “look at me. you may have power in your own districts, but i get the final say on this. we’re doing it my way. end of discussion.”

“Ooh, look at Sans with his big boss pants on all of a sudden!” Undyne cooed, before her voice fell. “Fine, you want to be unreasonable, then I challenge you to—”

“undyne, if you challenge me on this, i’ll consider it a break of the agreement, and I will cut you down before you can even blink. capiche? we’re not taking frisk’s SOUL.”

Undyne was struck dumb, and a brief silence rang out. You rounded the corner into the room, and all eyes turned to you. Papyrus looked as though he wanted to ask you if you were okay.

“But what if I want you to?” you asked Sans before Papyrus could say anything. 

“excuse me?” Sans said, taken aback. He’d been looking between you and Papyrus with a partially guilty, partially annoyed expression, but your words had startled him.

“What if I want you to use my soul?” you repeated.

“frisk, i dunno if you know what you’re saying but—“

“Because I’ll give it to you. Willingly.”

Sans took a step toward you, and you just watched him. He took another. “frisk. if i did something like that, i couldn’t promise you’d survive it. i couldn’t promise it would end well for anyone, to be honest.”

“That’s okay,” you said, smiling toothily. “I don’t really want to end up like my sister in there.” Sans definitely looked guilty at that, and you shrugged. “Don’t worry, I know it wasn’t you.”

“you do?” Sans glanced back at Papyrus, who shrugged. “how?”

“That cut across her throat?” you asked, your gaze fierce. “That’s how they tried to kill me, too.”

“Wait, what?” Alphys chimed in, but you ignored her question. Sans was silent, his head bowed slightly, the lights in his eyes dim. You continued on.

“So I’m thinking, yeah, I’ll give you my soul. I don’t know exactly why you want it, or what you’re going to do with it, and I don’t really care. What I do care about…is what you do after that.” You paused to make sure everyone was paying attention. “Whatever happens to me, or my soul, or anything, I want you to promise that you’ll kill them all, without mercy.”

Sans’s eyes suddenly flared bright as he looked up at you, and his mouth spread into a wide grin, like a wild animal that had just been uncaged.

“now _that_ i can promise.”


	8. The Capital

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk thinks too much/not enough.

“You guys really don’t have to do this, you know,” you said, looking up at Papyrus as you all walked under the archway to the Capital, the burly guards waving you through. “You don’t need to try to win me over anymore. I’m already onside.”

“Nonsense,” Papyrus said, waving a careless hand. “This is your last night here! We need to give you a good send-off.”

“Don’t you mean last night _anywhere_ , ya bonehead?” Undyne exclaimed, slugging Papyrus in the arm, who turned to her with an annoyed, narrow-eyed look.

“Ignore her, Miss Frisk,” he said peevishly. “She’s just a little salty because she’s been ditched by her beau.”

“Hey!” Undyne shouted, threatening him with another raised fist. “Alphys has more interesting things to do than hang around with you dorks all night.”

“But _you_ don’t seem to have that problem,” Papyrus retorted.

“Yeah! Exactly!” Undyne said, smiling wide.

“…Right. Anyway, Mettaton’s, uh, club isn’t much farther.” He grinned a silly little grin, and you laughed silently to yourself. He was so obviously head-over-heels for Mettaton. It was so cute. “I told him we’d stop there first. Plus I need to change.”

“Wait,” you interjected. “Didn’t you just change into those clothes this morning? I mean—how dirty is that suit gonna be after a day? It’s not like bones…sweat. Do they?” You asked, glancing back at Sans, who wasn’t paying any attention to the conversation. He was busy looking at the crowds of monsters wandering the streets, including the hordes of raggedy children, who were obviously beggars. You sighed internally. It was never easy for you to see children in squalor, no matter if they were monsters or humans. You’d been right there, in that exact place, and you wished you could do something for them.

What was odd to you was that it seemed Sans wanted to help, too.

“I don’t _need_ to, I just like to. It’s not easy looking this good, you know,” Papyrus responded, and you turned to him again to see him slipping his fingers inside his lapel. “Plus I carried Undyne quite a long way today, and she was pretty nasty after her embarrassing loss earlier.” He made a face of disgust.

You were barely paying attention by then, though, as when you’d glanced back to catch Sans’s eye to ask him about the children you’d seen, he was gone.

“Yeah, that _was_ pretty embarrassing! Think Alphys must’ve hosed me down when she fixed me up, though. I feel fresh as a daisy!”

“That makes sense—you fight like one too.”

You blinked, your body going on autopilot to follow Papyrus and Undyne as you searched the crowd for Sans’s familiar form. You couldn’t see him anywhere. Where had he gone? 

“Damn, Papyrus, you get sassy when you stank.”

“I mean. I feel like, why should I be polite when I smell like a sweaty mermaid, y’know? The damage is already done.”

You looked back again, thinking he might have slipped away to help those kids, but he was just right there, a goofy smile on his face, his eyes on the pavement. You glanced behind him and saw the children staring with shock and joy inside a cloth bag they held between them.

“Hey! I don’t smell _that_ bad. Alphys likes my musk!”

“She’s kind of a freak for that kind of thing though, right?”

He kicked at a rock as he trudged behind you, and you gave a little cough, making him glance up at you. You raised your eyebrows. Had he been the one to help those children?

“Says the guy who’s boning a robot!”

“He’s an _android,_ thank you very much.”

He glanced away, his smile falling back to a neutral expression. You laughed mentally. Busted.

“Wait—Alphys made him. Doesn’t that make her, like, his mom?”

“Oh, my God! You’re dating my future mother-in-law! Does that mean I get two _mommies_?”

You fell back to walk beside him, grinning at his tough-guy posture: hunched shoulders, cigarette held to his mouth, eyes scanning the crowd again from behind heavy-lidded eyes. 

“Ew, no, I’m not your mom. If anything, I’m the cool aunt who’ll let you listen to loud music, and maybe buy you some smokes!”

“You think that’s cool? _Sans_ does that stuff, and he’s the least cool person I know! Grillby’s cooler than Sans, and he’s made of fire.”

“Harsh, man, he’s right there!”

“Oh, really? I didn’t notice because he’s _not talking._ Why is that, o brother of mine?”

You realised Sans was so busy putting on a front that he was completely oblivious to the fact that Papyrus was trying to get his attention. You nudged him gently as you naturally swayed closer. He turned to you with bright eyes, and you felt flutters of giddiness in your stomach. You squashed them down reluctantly. They weren’t exactly welcome to your party. Just because you’d agreed to give him your soul didn’t mean anything had changed between you. You just trusted him enough to honour his promise to make the villagers pay for what they’d done.

So what if he was on his best behaviour? So what if he’d clearly taken your words onboard? So what if seeing him help those children was incredibly sweet? So what if you wanted to kiss him, despite what had happened, because he was looking at you like you were someone precious?

You _really_ wanted to. But so what?

It would be pretty fucked up for you to be thinking about him like that, anyway. You’d literally just signed your soul away, and there wouldn’t be any time for…stuff like that. You needed to focus on what you _could_ do to enjoy yourself.

“what’s up, sweetheart?” Sans asked, speaking around his cigarette. The pet name was different, somehow. There was no biting sarcasm behind it, and it sounded very… _nice_ coming from him, now. You waited for him to blow his smoke directly at you like he had always done before, but he turned to exhale away from you. Your eyebrows shot up.

“Just—Papyrus was talking to you,” you mumbled, still catching the scent of his smoke on the wind. It made your heart beat faster to remember the last time you had smelled it, pressed up against him in his kitchen, your leg hiked around his hip. Then you thought about what happened after that, and you sighed mentally. Why couldn’t he have just let go of whatever his hang-up was? It wasn’t like you’d been proposing to him. It didn’t really matter that you were going to your death soon—sex didn’t require a commitment.

And to be honest, hate-fucking him would probably have been some of the best sex of your life.

You drifted off considering what it would have been like if Sans hadn’t cut you off, when Papyrus’s voice pierced the bubble of thought. “Frisk? Are _you_ alright?”

“N-nothing!” you coughed out, your face warming.

“Okay?” Papyrus said suspiciously, before catching sight of a tall red brick building with neon signs blaring the name of the establishment for anyone passing by: Maison Mettaton. “There it is!”

“Oh, is it?” Undyne snarked, rolling her eyes. “Wasn’t too clear about who owns the place.”

You followed them inside, being greeted by a spider woman in a purple and black corset and petticoat, her five eyes focusing independently on each of you, the last one still on the door. She gave you a knowingly coy smile, waving you through at the sight of Papyrus. She licked her lips at you as you passed, and you hurried ahead, nervously glancing over your shoulder at her. You caught sight of Sans behind you, the hint of distaste crossing his face. You hesitated long enough to draw level with him, having to shout over the pounding electronic music. “You alright?”

Sans shrugged as you took in the sights: there was a large stage at the back of the building where there was a dancer draped in a feather boa performing to the music played by a tall, classic-ghost-shaped monster at the DJ booth. Around the room were monsters dancing in cages and on raised platforms, surrounded by small sections of seating. There was a roped off area near the bar at the side of the room, away from the clamour of monsters, with a large, reflective, glass-walled booth. The atmosphere was one of complete debauchery, but absolute enjoyment: everyone looked like they were having a great time.

You smiled down at Sans. “What, sexy dancing not your thing?”

His lips pulled up into a half-smirk for a brief moment, before he covered it up by taking a drag on his cigarette. Your smile grew at his reaction, but even though it had been worth it, it had also slightly backfired, as you were now thinking about your dance with him. He shrugged again, lightly, his eyes scanning the room. “not really my style. plus, the drinks are way too expensive. mettaton’s more in it for the business.”

“As opposed to what? The fun of it?” you asked, stopping to let a blue-furred bunny carrying a tray of drinks past. Sans watched you from across the space between you, his eyes glittering in the blacklight.

“it can be fun,” Sans said in a deep, quiet voice as you stepped back together. You had a feeling he wasn’t talking about owning a business, anymore. “if you know how to handle it.”

You swallowed lightly, turning and leading the way to where Papyrus stood at the bar. You were getting a little too interested in where that conversation could go. You needed to back off. You still weren’t ready to forget what he’d done. “I wouldn’t know,” you said breezily, hopping up onto the stool next to Papyrus. “Hope you’re ordering my drink too.”

“Ah, yes, of course! What kind of drink would you like?” Papyrus asked, turning with a smile. Undyne stood on the other side of him, glaring at the bartender, who was saying she didn’t carry anything called ‘grog.’ 

“Anything strong. I want to still be drunk when you guys take my soul. That shit hurt,” you said, tucking your feet behind the chair’s rungs. You heard Sans sit beside you, but you didn’t look his way. You were busy watching Undyne smash her fist on the bar.

“Fine! Then give me your most heinous drink mixed with your second-most heinous!” Undyne was shouting as the bartender rushed to oblige. “And put it in a really big glass!”

“she’s really wired today, isn’t she?” Sans muttered. You grinned to yourself. “hey, undyne, better be careful of that stuff, otherwise you might get ‘hooked.’”

“Whuh?” Undyne swung around as you cracked up, giant pint glass in her hand. “Whussat, Sans?”

“nothing, just saying that I hope that drink doesn’t ‘fin’ish you off.”

You snorted into the back of your hand. Undyne raised the glass in a toast, sloshing a bit of liquid. “Nah, I could probably put back a whole mess of these things.” She took a huge swig of the drink, coughing slightly and shaking her head vigorously as she put it back down. “Gah! That’ll put hair on your chest!”

You grimaced at the thought of a fish with chest hair, but you were thankfully interrupted by the arrival of a neon pink drink in a hurricane glass, with a ridiculous amount of miniature umbrellas all stacked together, in all shapes and colours. “Wha—what the hell is this thing?”

“That’s the ‘Mettaton!’” Papyrus exclaimed, his own drink the same you’d had at the bar in Snowdin. You looked at it with envy before turning back to your abomination with confusion. “He designed it and named it after himself.” He smiled and shook his head. “So humble.”

You blinked. “How do I—how do I even—I don’t—how do I _drink_ this thing?” you asked, gesturing at it. “What do I do with those umbrellas? Do I take them out or leave them in?”

“Ah, the eternal question,” Papyrus sighed, taking a sip of his drink. “Aye, there’s the rub.”

“or,” Sans said, holding a straw out to you with a charming grin. “you could just use this.”

You took it gratefully, eyeing the empty bar top around him. “How’d you do that?”

He winked. “magic.”

“Sans, how dare you invalidate my rub!” Papyrus glared.

“Did someone say rub?” Undyne shouted, grinning with sudden bloodlust.

“nah, you must be ‘herring’ things,” Sans said, and took a sip of his drink while you laughed into your own, a sly smile on his face as he watched you.

“Oh my God,” you said, giggling as the candy-flavoured drink sat heavily in your stomach. “You weren’t lying about having bad jokes. Don’t ever stop.”

“couldn’t even if i wanted to,” Sans responded, raising his glass to clink against yours. You smiled over at him as the crowd went wild behind you, and you both swung around to see that the performer on stage had finished their dance, and was taking a bow.

“Oh, good, Mettaton’s done,” Papyrus said, downing his drink in one gulp and setting the glass down on the mirrored counter top. “C’mon, Undyne, let’s see if he’ll lend you something, too. You smell like a rotten aquarium.”

“Hey!” Undyne protested, slamming her already-empty glass back down and pointing at Papyrus. “Just because you’re King Gang here doesn’t mean you can force me to—” She seemed to catch a whiff of herself, and she grimaced. “Yeah, okay, you have a point.”

You chuckled under your breath as you watched Mettaton leap down from the stage and sashay straight for Papyrus. The sequinned tassels of his silver corseted dress swung seductively from his hips, the white-collar-and-black-tie necklace crumpling as he arched into Papyrus’s open arms, his silver-ribboned top hat going askew as they kissed.

You wolf-whistled at them, and Mettaton peeked through the fall of his hair over at you, smirking. “Hello again, darling. Have you come to see how the big boys have fun?”

You grinned and shrugged. “Last day on Earth, you know? Papyrus wanted me to enjoy myself.”

“Mm, such a… _giving_ personality,” he hummed, stroking a fingertip along Papyrus’s jaw, who was looking at him with obviously love-struck eyes. You couldn’t help the bolt of envy that struck you: what would it have been like if someone had looked at you like that?

Oh, well. No need to think about it, anymore.

“Could Undyne and I borrow your changing room for a bit?” Papyrus was asking. “We both need a little…freshening.”

“Of course, gorgeous. You know where it is. I’ll be back in a second,” Mettaton said, gesturing Papyrus to the left. He watched them go with his head cocked slightly and his tongue between his teeth, a smirk pulling at his lips. He waited until they pushed through a swinging door before turning to you and saying, “So, honey, how about you? You wanna get out of those rags?”

You twisted a finger in the hem of your shirt, glancing at Sans. He took another drink, his eyes sliding quickly down your body, but snapping back to your eyes as though he hadn’t meant to do it. You shifted slightly, unconsciously, leaning back against the bar. “I’m alright, Mettaton. Thanks for the offer, though.”

“Are you _sure_? I’ve got some things back there that would make your ass look _amazing_.” He raised his eyebrows, and you grinned to yourself with your head down, fiddling with a small water stain on your trousers. It would maybe be nice to change. Look good for—for yourself. “Come on, sweetie, you don’t want to go around looking like Little Orphan Sansy, here.”

“hey,” Sans protested. “what’s wrong with how i dress?”

“What? Don’t tell me you _actually_ think it’s acceptable for you to dress like that?” Mettaton laughed. “Oh, my God, you’re so precious.”

You looked over his clothes—the same he’d been wearing since you’d fallen. You remembered thinking he’d looked pretty shabby when you’d first seen him, but after getting to know him, and how casual he usually was, you thought they looked just fine on him. But still— “You know, it is kind of weird for you to dress so sloppy. Aren’t you supposed to be giving the impression that you’re, like, the boss?”

Sans scoffed a little. “sloppy huh?”

You lifted a shoulder, eyeing him again, biting your lip. “…well?”

“Hah, oh my _God_ , what a bitchy thing to say!” Mettaton exclaimed, clapping his hands. “I love it!”

You looked between the two, noticing the slight hint of hurt in Sans’s eyes. You shook your head, feeling decidedly guilty. “Hey, no, I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just making a comment.”

“nah, don’t worry about it. i know how sassy you get when you’ve had a drink,” Sans winked and turned away. “go get yourself dolled up, doll.”

“Sans, come on,” you implored, trying to catch his eye. He didn’t notice, taking a long drag of his cigarette. “I wasn’t trying to be mean. You—you know I—” You stumbled on the words, unable to say them out loud, especially considering the company present. He _had_ to know you thought he was attractive, though. Why would you have jumped his bones if you didn’t? Why would you _still_ want to jump his bones, even after everything, if you didn’t think he was sexy?

Sans blew his smoke toward the ceiling before tilting his head back toward you, grinning lazily. “don’t worry about me, kid, these old bones don’t bruise so easy.” He drained his drink and tapped on the bar, waiting for the bartender’s attention.

You watched him in profile for another moment, eyebrows knitted together, before giving a small shrug. “Okay,” you relented, hopping off the bar stool next to Mettaton. You didn’t look back as you followed him to his dressing room, where Papyrus and Undyne were choosing from rows and rows of hanging outfits. You gaped at the sheer amount of options you now faced. Mettaton chuckled at your face and went over to Papyrus, draping himself over him.

“Help yourself, darling. Any of the dresses should be just about your size, but if you’re wanting something a little more… _adventurous_ , then I can help you pick something suitable out.” Mettaton had a positively wicked look on his face as he spoke, and you grinned.

“That’s alright,” you said, part of you wanting to ask him what exactly he considered to be adventurous, but also not wanting to get lost in the selection. “I’ll just have a look.”

You went to the racks of clothes and flipped through the dozens Mettaton had, getting slightly overwhelmed. You narrowed it down to a few options, but when you couldn’t choose, you asked for an executive decision from the three of them. Papyrus and Mettaton agreed on one of the dresses, while Undyne voted for nice trousers, so you went with majority. You changed quickly, as everyone else had already chosen and was already dressed. 

Papyrus and Mettaton were wearing matching maroon-and-midnight-blue outfits, Papyrus wearing his usual style of suit, but Mettaton in a more formal tuxedo, but without a shirt underneath the jacket, so that his chest was partially exposed. A maroon bowtie finished his look, but it was instead tied like an actual bow. Undyne was still dressed mostly casual in dark tan, heavy linen trousers, an off-white button down shirt, and a black, unbuttoned waistcoat.

Your dress was a very dark midnight blue satin, with thin straps and a sweetheart neckline, and a waist that was emphasised by a wide, oversized bow that tied around the back. It was a dark, burnt orange colour, the same that peeked from the ruffled pleats in the knee-length skirt. It reminded you of embers in the dark, like a campfire left to cool. You had chosen other dresses, as well, but Mettaton had insisted on this one in particular, saying that it was no fun if you didn’t match at least a little bit.

Once you’d slipped it on and zipped it up, smoothing it over your body, Mettaton took you by the shoulders and directed you to a full-length mirror, murmuring in your ear, “Now, aren’t you glad you let me talk you into this?”

Your lips pulled up in an involuntary smile. With the strappy heels Mettaton had given you to wear with the dress, you had to admit you looked pretty damn good. You couldn’t wait to see the look on—on everyone’s face.

You were humming with excitement as you all left the dressing room back to the main area of the club. While Mettaton ushered you all to the VIP section, your eyes instinctively sought Sans, but he was nowhere to be found.

“Uh, Papyrus? Where’s Sans?”

Papyrus looked around briefly and gave a little hum of confusion, then strode over to the bar and had a brief conversation with the bartender, before returning with a slight shrug.

“The barkeep says that he left shortly after we did. But worry not, Miss Frisk, I’m sure he’ll be back before the night is over.” He gestured toward the VIP booth where you all sat, another round of drinks already awaiting you.

You gave a little sigh of disgust. “I knew it. I knew he’d taken what I said too seriously. Why does he always have to spoil everything?” You poked at the umbrellas in your drink.

Papyrus exchanged a brief glance with Mettaton and Undyne, before he spoke up. “Don’t you think…that you’re maybe being a little hard on Sans?”

You bristled at that. “Me? I’m not the one throwing out mixed messages all over the place!”

“Granted, my brother isn’t the best at dealing with people, but I’d say the message he’s putting out is pretty clear right now.”

“What are you talking about?” you muttered, scowling down at the pink abomination.

“Look…Sans has clearly wronged you in some way, and I have a reasonable idea of what that is. But he’s been trying to put it right since.”

You gaped slightly at Papyrus’s serious, earnest expression, and the fact that Undyne and Mettaton both punctuated his statement with nods of their own. You turned your scowl back on them.

“Oh, do you mean not apologising for it, and continuing to try to manipulate me? Because that’s all I’ve been getting from him.”

Undyne suddenly banged a fist on the table with a growl of frustration. “Are you kidding me? Didn’t you see how hard he fought to protect you?”

“I wasn’t impressed by him posturing, if that’s what you mean,” you replied, waving a hand dismissively.

“You don’t get it. I haven’t seen him fight like that since just after the riots!” Undyne’s eye was wide with enthusiasm. “I mean…I know I looked pretty cool out there, but I was damn scared.”

“It’s the truth, darling, much as it pains me to see. He’s gone positively soft, trying to protect you! He didn’t even _try_ to dismantle me this time!” Mettaton exclaimed, holding a hand to his chest. “I was honestly, _fabulously_ , offended.”

“And you _were_ impressed. I saw that look on your face.” Papyrus nudged you with his elbow, a knowing grin on his face.

You looked between all of them, and their eager faces. It was obvious they at least thought they were telling the truth.

“Fine!” you relented. “If Sans decides to show up again, I won’t give him a hard time about this.”

“ _And_ you’ll buy him a drink.”

“With what money?” you asked Papyrus. “Pets don’t exactly get paid.”

“Well, if you want to get _paid_ I’m sure we can come to an arrangement,” Mettaton said in a silky voice, his eyes full of greedy interest.

“Tha—that won’t be necessary, thank you Mettaton,” Papyrus cut in. “I’ll give you the money, Frisk.”

“Can we talk about something else, now, please?” you asked, sighing. “Getting scolded and… _recruited_ isn’t exactly how I want to spend my last night.”

“I’ll drink to that!” Undyne took a big swig of her drink, and the topic of conversation was thankfully changed. Unfortunately, that didn’t stop you from thinking about Sans, and what the three of them had meant by their little talking to. 

You were certain they’d been hinting at Sans having deeper-than-lust feelings for you. And you had no real reason not to believe them. Only your own stubborn refusal. You didn’t like that someone could do something horrible to someone they were interested in being with in any way. But you knew it happened. You’d been that horrible to some people in your own relationships, before, despite you supposedly loving them. You’d taken their forgiveness for granted, it seemed. It wasn’t easy to forgive when all you wanted was to be angry.

But that wasn’t true, was it? You’d felt things for Sans other than anger, even after he’d hurt you. You’d joked, and laughed, and even flirted with him. In fact, if you were being honest with yourself, you had an idea that the only real reason you were annoyed with him for leaving was because it made _you_ feel bad that you might have hurt _his_ feelings. Worse still, you thought that if he hadn’t messed you around, that you’d probably want more than sex from _him_.

God, what a stupid thing to realise now.

You tried to forget Sans and your possible-maybe-probably feelings for him as you all chatted and watched the shows through the opaque glass around the booth. You had maybe a few too many drinks in your attempt to forget about him, though, as you soon became giddy from all the magic, giggling and wolf-whistling at all the performers.

When the next act onstage consisted of a musclebound seahorse pouring oil over himself, flexing and winking at the audience, though, you collectively decided it was time to move the night somewhere else. Mettaton declined, though, saying he would catch up, as he loved this performance.

As you stumbled out into the night, Papyrus asked you where you’d like to go next, and you shrugged loosely, stomping through the cobbled streets with abandon. The drinks had gotten you more than a little tipsy, but you were still alright. You gestured vaguely at a seedy-looking bar, and Undyne gasped.

“Oh my God, Gerson’s! I love this place! It’s my Big Favourite!” 

“Um. Miss Frisk, are you sure?” Papyrus asked, clearly unsure. “There are plenty of _nice_ places around here. Ones that aren’t so…dangerous.”

“Ah, don’t be such a baby, she’s a human! She could kill any one of us anytime she wanted.” Undyne was already striding through the bar doors, oblivious to Papyrus’s protest and your wide eyed stare.

“Papyrus…what does that mean?”

“Uh. Um. It means we should go ahead and have a grand old time at Gerson’s!” Papyrus laughed nervously and pushed through the doors of the bar.

“No no no no,” you rambled, following him and holding a finger up, not even bothering to check your surroundings. “Back that caboose up, Mister. I thought you guys were all super-badass magical warriors or something. All I can do is—” You paused to think. “—light cigarettes. So what gives?”

“See, the thing about that is,” Papyrus made a face, hesitating before scraping a hand over his skull. “Humans are much, much more powerful than monsters, physically. That’s how they were able to seal us all up here to begin with. It’s part of our tragic backst—“

“So what you’re saying is,” you interjected, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “I could kick your ass? Or Undyne’s? Or…Sans’s.”

“I, um. I suppose that’s possible. But why would you want to do that?” He asked, his eyebrows knitted together. Just as he spoke, a giant, ragged, red demon-like monster approached you, looming over you.

“Hey sweet thing, you’re looking pretty lonely there. You want me to keep you company instead?”

“I could kick _your_ ass!” You beamed at the monster, pointing at him with your fingers and thumb shaped like a gun.

“What did you fuckin’ say?” the monster roared, puffing his chest out.

“Miss Frisk, please, you’re going to start a—“

“BAR FIGHT!” Undyne shouted, slamming her bottle onto the bar top, the shattering glass like a signal for everyone to lose their minds. Someone threw a punch at Undyne, and like dominoes falling against each other, the first punch ricocheted around until everyone was in a proper brawling fight.

It was absolute chaos, then. You had to duck a few punches and kicks and even a thrown bottle before Papyrus hauled you by the waist to the side of the bar, where you were cracking up with laughter at the sheer pandemonium.

“Boy, you guys were just aching for a fight, weren’t you?” you called out into the madness, dodging a donkey kick from the crowd.

“Yeah, it’s mostly retired soldiers that frequent this bar,” Papyrus said, eyeing the sight with distaste.

“So if everyone was so ready to brawl, why aren’t they always fighting?” you asked.

“Uh, well, this is actually…one of our establishments. The boss usually keeps them in check,” he said, scowling at the ruckus.

“They don’t seem to have a problem with you being here, now.” You pointed out, snorting with laughter.

“It’s because I’m not the boss, here,” Papyrus said with a meaningful look.

“ _Oh_ ,” you said in a stage whisper. “You mean ‘the boss.’” You grinned. “Like he would ever do any work. Doesn’t he usually just pawn the ‘business’ off onto you?”

“This was Sans’s before there _was_ any business.”

You didn’t have time to dwell on Papyrus’s words before the front doors slammed open, a shadow falling across the brawling monsters. Everyone seemed to freeze in their steps, their eyes all focused on the doorway. Undyne took one look at the door before dismissively tossing away the monster she’d had in a headlock. You squirmed to get out of Papyrus’s arms, but he held fast. So, instead, you bent at the waist and leaned over to see who had caught everyone’s attention.

“Uh, oh!” you exclaimed in a mocking, sing-song tone. “It’s the boss!”

Sans stood there in his familiar challenging stance. He was dressed differently, for once, in a navy-pinstripe, double-breasted suit, which was cut perfectly to suit him, and shiny dark brown leather shoes. He had his hands in the pockets of the jacket, and over his shoulders was draped a fur-trimmed wool overcoat in a matching shade of navy, fluttering slightly in the breeze from outside. He was also wearing an amused grin, and was puffing on a cigar between his teeth. His left eye was fully illuminated and scanning the room.

“oh? what’s this? i came here to have a nice time with my brother, and instead i find…this,” he said, casually gesturing around the room. There was an edge to his voice you hadn’t heard before. “who’s gonna explain this, uh, _silliness_ to me?”

When no one spoke up immediately, Sans turned his gaze on Undyne.

“undyne. tell me what happened. twenty words or less.”

“Well…all I remember is that someone made a pass at the human, then someone started a bar fight.” She counted the words on her fingers as she spoke, her eye lighting with joy when she reached 19. “Yeah.”

“yeah? are these someones gonna take one for the team and own up? or am I gonna have to punish all of you lowlifes?” Sans asked, gesturing to everyone now inching nervously towards the back door.

“Hey! Who you callin’ a lowlife?” Undyne suddenly climbed over the monsters in the bar, making a beeline for Sans, when he raised his hand and sent her shooting backwards into the crowd, bowling them over into a big heap.

“undyne, thank you for your help. now sit the fuck down.”

You wrenched out of Papyrus’s grasp and stomped over to Sans, hands on hips. “Hey! Leave her alone, you fuckin’ bully!” When he caught sight of you, his shoulders dropped slightly and his grin subsided, his eyes going fully dark before flickering back to life, to his usual white lights. “I was the one who started it!”

“frisk?” 

“Yeah, it was _me_ , you _dickhead_.” You strutted closer deliberately, your hands falling to your sides. You stopped when you were close enough to kiss, your stance mirroring his. “What are you gonna do about it? Punish me?”

“maybe.” His voice was soft. Too soft. It was dangerously hot to hear him talk like that. It made your blood boil with something between anger and lust.

“You think you can come in here like the fucking Bone Daddy, wearing that suit like a sexy motherfucker, rocking up to this place like you’re the goddamn boss, well let me tell you something, you’re not the boss of me, buddy, you’re just some prick who can’t decide if he should fuck a girl or kill her,” you ranted. You knew you should just shut your mouth before you got yourself in trouble, but the way he stood there looking at you like you were the sexiest person he’d ever seen was bad news for you.

“thought i’d been pretty clear on where i stand on that matter.” He looked completely serious, and your heart skipped a beat. You wanted so badly for him to take you, then—just press you up against the wall and let you ride him. But no, you had to be strong. He was trying to make a point with this blustering act, and you wouldn’t let him.

“You know what?” you said. “You might be able to bully everyone else, but Papyrus told me something _very interesting_.”

“oh, he did, huh?” Sans looked over at Papyrus with humour in his eyes, and it threw you somewhat. Why was he joking around if he was trying to be a Big Bad Boss Guy?

“Well, I mean—Undyne _told her_ , all I did was clarify!” Papyrus replied, his voice high with annoyance.

“Papyrus, you twerp!” Undyne shouted from the pile.

“can it, tuna fish,” Sans retorted without hesitation.

“ _Anyway_ ,” you said, trying to bring his attention back to the matter at hand. “Something…interesting.”

“go ahead,” he said, his eyes dancing with a hidden smile for you.

“They told me that I—a human, as you may know—am strong enough to _kick your ass._ ” You drew those last words out, prodding him in the chest to punctuate each one.

“why would you wanna do that?” Sans asked with a half-smile, letting you bully him without complaint.

“Because I can!” you exclaimed, the hint of a whine to your voice. “And because you’re a jerk! And…because you didn’t even stick around long enough to let me say I was sorry.” You shook your head to focus. “Wait, no, just the first two.”

“what can i say? it takes longer to pretty me up than it does you,” Sans said, giving you a sly wink.

“You just…shut up.” You huffed. “You don’t get to be so charming while I’m trying to challenge you!”

“you’re actually challenging me, huh?” Sans asked, taking his cigar out of his mouth casually, raising his hand palm-up in question.

“Yes,” you said without thought. “Yes, I am. Only this time, you can’t cheat. No magic. No weapons. Just me and you.”

“welp. if those are your terms, then i have no choice.” His eyes flashed dangerously, his smile making you wonder what the hell you’d been thinking. “challenge accepted, sweetheart.”


	9. The Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans and Frisk sort their shit out.

You’d boasted your way into this situation, and suddenly you weren’t sure if you were ready for it. Papyrus had given you some kind of foul-tasting drink to sober you up just enough for you to realise that maybe this wasn’t the best idea you’d ever had. He’d said it was so you didn’t kill yourself before the fight had even started, but you personally thought that he only did it so he could see the raw, unfiltered fear that struck you as soon as the lust and monster magic cleared from your system.

It didn’t make it better that Sans hadn’t taken his eyes off you since you’d issued the challenge. As you leaned against the wall of the bar outside, unstrapping the shoes from your feet and kicking them to the side, Sans took off his overcoat and unbuttoned his suit jacket shrugging it off and tossing it to the ground. Papyrus winced and made a forlorn sound at the sight, his eyes looking longingly at the suit jacket. Neither you nor Sans took any particular notice of him, though, as Sans loosened his champagne-coloured tie and unbuttoned the top button of his black shirt.

Part of you felt like it was a shame for him to be dressing down so soon after he’d dressed up. Especially as you had the feeling he’d done it to prove a point to you. And you’d be ruining your nice clothes, as well, with the fight. You weren’t sure how Mettaton would react, but if you lost, you’d probably be dead anyway, so you didn’t worry too much about it. You were too busy trying not to vomit with nerves as you stretched your legs, rolling your shoulders and neck to limber up. You hadn’t fought for a long time, so you weren’t sure how you were going to pull this off.

“you ready?” Sans asked, watching you with his hands in his pockets, his cigar stubbed out and tossed away.

You bounced on the balls of your feet to test your muscles, and nodded. You were as ready as you were ever going to be. “Let’s do this.”

“hold up,” he said as you stood across from him, your bare feet warm on the concrete. His eyes were bright pinpricks in the relative darkness. “you stated your terms, but we haven’t agreed on the stakes. what’d’ya want from this?”

You stood with your hands flat against your hips as you thought about that. You shrugged your shoulders, throwing him a vicious grin. There was only one thing you wanted from this fight. “Working out my aggression on you is enough of a reward.”

He shook his head briefly. “no, that’s, uh, that’s not how it works. we gotta have something at stake, here, even if it’s just a token.”

You made a small sound of frustration. “Fine, gimme a second to think about it.”

“take your time, doll.”

Your face fell into a dark expression at his now-familiar pet name for you. “Never mind. I know what I want.”

He gestured for you to continue, saying nothing.

“No matter what happens tomorrow, I want you to promise me you’ll do right by my sister,” you said, pointing at him for emphasis, your eyes narrowed. “If she survives whatever happens, I don’t want you treating her like this. She’s not gonna be your _pet_. She’s one of you—understand? And if she dies—” 

“don’t worry, i got it.”

You tossed your hair back. “You better. ‘Cause if you don’t, I’ll come back, and _make_ you understand.”

Sans grinned. “somehow, i don’t doubt that.”

“Good.”

“is that it, then?” he asked, his brow bones raised.

“Yeah,” you said, then immediately retracted with, “Wait, no! I want you to apologise, as well.” You nodded firmly. “And! You have to buy me drinks for the rest of the night. In fact, you gotta buy everyone’s drinks. A-and you gotta apologise to Papyrus, too, for making him do what he did. And—”

“listen, i don’t see anyone taking notes, so let’s just make this simple. whoever wins, the other just has to do whatever they say,” he suggested, a hand raised palm-up to you.

You eyed him suspiciously. “How long?”

“twenty-four hours.”

“No way!” you deadpanned, waving a hand dismissively.

“fine, how about twelve hours?” he offered, and you thought it over. What could he really have you do in twelve hours that would be bad enough to not get the chance to kick his ass? Especially if you won. You’d enjoy taking him to task.

“Deal,” you said after only a moment’s consideration.

“deal.”

“Okay,” you said. “Now can we do this?”

“sure.”

You drew your hands up in front of your chest in a defensive pose, smiling with anticipation. “ _Finally_.”

Nothing happened immediately between the two of you, unlike Sans’s fight with Undyne. Sans stood casually across from you, his hands still tucked in his pockets, but his eyes watching you warily. You approached him slowly, sidestepping occasionally just to see how he would react, but he continued observing you. When you got within a certain distance of him, though, he began mirroring your steps, moving opposite the direction you did as you tried to flank him.

He still hadn’t made a move to defend himself, the cocky bastard.

You knew you weren’t going to catch him off-guard so soon in the fight, and he clearly wasn’t going to make the first move, so instead of continuing the dance of observation between you, you struck. Aiming straight for his sternum, you threw a fast, heavy punch, shocked when it actually connected. Sans had blocked much of the force behind your punch by lifting his knee into your gut, but there was still enough there to cause him to take a step back.

You retreated, shaking the tingles from your hand. It hadn’t hurt as much as you were expecting, but it still wasn’t nice. Even though you had hit him hard enough to push him away, he appeared largely unaffected.

And he _still_ had his hands in his _stupid_ pockets.

Annoyed at his lack of interest, you balled your fists again, striking quickly for his jaw, this time. He dodged casually, and you gritted your teeth, frustration already setting in. Why did he never take you seriously? It was all just a game to him. You struck again. Another dodge. There was a cheeky smirk on his face now. What an _asshole_ —he was clearly just messing with you, trying to make you lose confidence. You swung again. Another dodge, and he was smiling wide, now.

“Take me _seriously_!” you shouted, levelling a punch directly at his cocky face, but he snatched your wrist mid-throw and dragged you in close, your faces inches apart. You knew you should try to break away, but this close, his smile had a mischievous quality to it that made your heart beat in a way that was inappropriate during a fight.

“sweetheart, if i was taking this fight seriously, it would be over by now,” he murmured, his words a challenge sent directly to your heart.

“Oh yeah?” you breathed, and used his closeness as a distraction, yanking hard on your arm and slamming your foot against the side of his knee. His leg buckled, knocking him off balance long enough for you to deliver a blow to his forehead with the heel of your palm, sending him wide-eyed to the ground.

You spent a single moment on surprise at how much force you were able to muster, considering how you’d seen him fight, before. But you didn’t want to let this opportunity pass by. You leapt on him, straddling his hips, trapping his elbows with your knees, and holding him down by one of his shoulders. Your free hand reared back and punched him hard in the mouth. “How about that? You gonna take me serious, now, short stuff?” you boasted with a smirk, your hair falling on either side of his face as you leaned over him.He shook his head, still smiling. “damn, frisk, you wanna talk about working stuff out?” He wriggled his hips up against yours playfully, and you were suddenly, _acutely_ reminded that you weren’t wearing underwear. It hadn’t occurred to you to ask for any, considering you’d been a prisoner for so long. Prisoners didn’t get the luxury of things like panties.

You flushed hotly. You couldn’t believe he was trying that in the middle of your fight. Worse still, you couldn’t believe it was turning you on, now that you were aware of the position you were in. You had to immediately force away thoughts of what you could be doing, instead, with your legs around him like that. “You’re un _believable_!” you said, sitting back and punctuating your words with a hard backhand across his face.

He laughed, turning his head to look you in the eyes again. “ooh, foreplay. not sure it’s appropriate right now, though, doll.”

“ _Shut up_!” you gasped, slamming your fist into his face again. It didn’t make you feel better, though, so you did it again. And again. He just kept smiling up at you, the lights of his eyes widening the more you hit him. You went for one last hit, your frustration at its peak, but at the last second, he crooked his head to the side just enough to avoid your blow. Your hand smashed into the pavement underneath him, and you cried out in pain, cradling it to your chest. Suddenly, you were pushed off balance, rolling heavily off of Sans to save yourself from landing on your shoulder.

You panted softly from parted lips, laying on your side and holding your injured hand out for inspection. It was red and raw, but it didn’t _feel_ broken. That might have just been adrenaline keeping you from feeling how bad it was, though. You looked up to see Sans laying on his side as well, close to you, propping his head up with the flat of his palm, his elbow against the ground. He was smiling so genuinely that it threw you.

“i knew it.”

You blinked before scrabbling to your feet, holding your fists up defensively again. Sans got up at a more leisurely pace, chuckling. “What are you talking about?” you asked breathlessly, going for a punch to his ribs. He grabbed your arm and pulled you forward, using your momentum to swing you and himself into a position where he could get you in a headlock. You gasped as his arm dug into your throat just enough to excite you, but not actually cut off your air. The balls of your feet skid along the ground as you bent towards him.

“well, you know—that you like me, too,” he said matter-of-factly.

You fisted a hand, landing a blow on his ribs for each word you replied with. “No—I—don’t.” He tightened his arm slightly, and you whimpered, your hands naturally clinging to him. He eased his grip as soon as you stopped your attack. “And what do you mean, too?” you gasped.

“are you sure?” he chuckled, holding you tight. “because if you actually wanted to hurt me, i would have been dead from any of those hits.” When you crooked your head to look up at him as much as you could, he was smiling down at you with affection, a few hairline cracks across his face. “and I think you know what i mean.”

You went still, looking away from him as your body went hot all over. Was he actually saying what you thought he was saying? You realised he didn’t even have you in a true hold, anymore, just as you noticed his tie swinging beside your head. You seized it without hesitation, pulling it and yourself backwards out of Sans’s arm, spinning him around forcibly to face you. His unbalance brought his body close to yours as you pulled back for another punch.

But you hesitated.

He made no move to defend himself, or attack you again—just waiting for you to react. Your fist clenched tighter, trembling softly as you stared in his eyes, which were flickering with intensity. After several tense moments, you sighed with disgust and let your fist drop, your other hand still gripping his tie tightly.

“That’s cheating,” you mumbled, glancing down and away from his eyes.

“how?” he asked softly.

“You can’t keep using that kind of stuff against me. It’s not fair. You said you wouldn’t do it anymore.”

Sans said nothing for a long moment. When his fingers reached up to wrap gently around yours, your eyes watched him loosen yours enough to free his tie from your grasp. You allowed the material to slide through your fingertips. When your hand dropped, it was still held by his, and your gaze was caught on the sight between you.

“i’m not trying to use anything against you,” he murmured to you, his deep voice somehow both soothing and exciting to you. “you told me to work my stuff out. so i did.” His fingers slid through yours, your hands fitting together. “frisk. i’m sorry for what i did to you. i was scared, but—that still doesn’t excuse me for how i reacted.”

Your eyes snapped to his, your heart pounding suddenly. Oh, no. He wasn’t joking. He wasn’t being sarcastic. He was _actually_ sorry. Oh, this wasn’t going to be good for your denial. You shook your head at his remorseful expression, yanking your hand out of his and spinning away, taking a few steps before turning back to him. “No—look, that’s not fair, either!”

“wha—i—huh?” he asked, his brow bones lowered.

You looked away for a second, trying to stop the smile from spreading across your face, but failing miserably. You ran your hand through your hair, laughing softly and peeking over at him. “I was supposed to be _making_ you apologise, after I won this fight.”

Sans’s smile returned, then, and he tucked his hands in his pockets once more. “okay then, i’m _not_ sorry.”

You snorted, waving a hand at him. “Now, see, you can’t expect me to believe that. You gotta work on your acting skills.”

“i dunno, i think i can be kind of persuasive. i mean, you were convinced i didn’t like you,” he said, winking.

“Sans, _you_ were convinced you didn’t like me!” you retorted, throwing your hands up.

“whatever you need to tell yourself.”

You laughed again, both of you settling into silence as you watched each other. Finally, Sans broke the silence by asking,

“so what now?”

You shrugged lightly. “Well, one of us has to win, right?”

“you still wanna fight? enjoying yourself, weren’t you?” He smirked.

You held your hands up palm-out. “Hey, we don’t have to hurt each other, if you don’t want to. We could do this by democratic vote.”

Sans glanced around pointedly. “i dunno, that might disappoint our audience.”

You looked around and realised there was a group of monsters that had gathered to watch the fight.  You figured it was probably some of the best entertainment they could get, watching Sans fight. You caught sight of Papyrus and Undyne watching from the open bar doors, Mettaton draped over Papyrus. You hadn’t even seen him arrive.

“HEY YOU DWEEBS! WHERE’S THE FIGHTING?!” Undyne shouted with her hands cupped to the sides of her mouth.

“Oh, my God, Undyne—shut up! They’re having a moment, for God’s sake!” Papyrus scolded her, his arm around Mettaton’s waist.

“But I wanna see ‘em _fight_ ,” Undyne whined. “Oh, I totally agree, but doesn’t her ass look _great_ in that dress?” Mettaton whirred, giving you a thumbs-up. “I knew it would. It’s MTT brand—”

“Mettaton,” Papyrus said in a patient, but firm voice.

“What?” Mettaton asked innocently, before making a sound of disgust and rolling his eyes. “Fine, but the least they could do is promote my brand when they fight, considering they drew the crowd from my place.”

“you hear that? it’s the least we could do,” Sans said, giving you a particularly wry smile.

“Well, Big Boss Sans, if you insist! I guess it’s time to put this MTT-Brand Party Dress through its paces!” you said loudly in your best salesman voice. 

Mettaton clapped with delight and addressed the crowd: “And I’ll be auctioning off that very dress once the fight is over!” He gave a lewd smile and added “ _She_ certainly won’t be needing it.”

As the crowd cheered and stomped with excitement, you and Sans shared an amused look at what Mettaton might have been implying. You weren’t going to say he was wrong.

“well, guess we have no choice, now,” Sans said, shrugging palm-up and winking. He approached you slowly, then, slipping his index finger behind his tie and loosening it again. “i mean, what kind of leader would i be if i backed down to a human?”

You sashayed toward him, smirking. “Fine by me,” you said in an overly dramatic voice, appreciating the playful way Sans was looking you up and down. “Then we’ll see who’s really the strongest down here.”

You both stopped close to each other, and you could feel the attraction between you. It was a palpable force, not unlike his magic pressure, only without the ear-popping discomfort that accompanied it. You felt as though your bodies were drawn together. You wanted to touch him, and you could tell he wanted to touch you.

“indeed we will,” he said, the tone of his voice matching yours, and you could tell he was having just as much fun hamming it up as you were. He brandished his fist between you. “it’s time you were put in your place, human.” His words drew a whoop from the crowd, and he leaned a little closer with a secret smile, murmuring under his breath so only you could hear, “was that alright?”

You surreptitiously gave him small “O.K.” hand gesture, grinning back at him before continuing with, “Hah! As if a half-pint like you is gonna be strong enough to take _my_ soul!”

The crowd booed and murmured their displeasure, and Sans put on a heroically resolute face, pointing at you and saying, “no one talks to the boss like that and gets away with it!”

He telegraphed his first punch so that you were able to dodge it with ease, and you masked your laughter with a sneer. “Is that the best you got?” You struck out at him with a weak kick at his knee, and he danced away, keeping out of your reach.

“i see you’re not impressed,” Sans said, scoffing. He smirked, cracking the knuckles of one hand in his other. “guess i’ll have to step it up.” He slipped his tie over his head, tightening it slightly again and dangling it from a fingertip. Your eyes followed it as it swung, and you couldn’t help the small thrill of interest you got when you looked into his eyes. The way he was looking at you—his eyes bright and his lids lowered, giving you a half-smile with a brow raised—felt like a promise meant only for you to understand. Your breath quickened.

“i know we said no magic, but do you want to see a trick?”

You raised an eyebrow back at him, wondering where exactly he was going with this. You decided to keep bluffing, holding your hands up in a boxer’s stance. 

“Go ahead, I’m not afraid of your tricks!” You threw a punch at him, but instead of dodging away from you, he moved into your attack, slipping the neck of the tie over your fist and around your wrist. Your eyes went wide with actual surprise as he slid his hand down the tie in the same motion, yanking it and your arm across your torso as he spun behind you, trapping your other arm against your side. His body was tight against your back as he held the tie taut between you, his free hand sliding over your bare shoulder and across your neck. His finger bones pressed against your throat, gentle but firm, and your heart galloped against his fingertips.

Oh, God.

This was definitely not appropriate for a fight.

You made an effort to school your face into one that wouldn’t completely give away how turned on you suddenly were, as you glanced over your shoulder at Sans. You had no idea if you managed to hide it even a little bit, because to you, it felt as though you were broadcasting to the entirely underground with your breathing alone that you would love nothing more than if Sans just dropped the act and fucked you, right there. He was looking up at you with a penetrating gaze.

“you gonna submit?”

His words caused a cry of triumph from the crowd, but the way he said them—low and commanding, the ruse of the fight seemingly forgotten—caused your knees to go weak. You instinctively arched against him, and his eyes flashed.

“N-never,” you said loudly, struggling to keep up the act while his thumb stroked against your pulse under the fall of your hair. You could tell he knew what he was doing; how he affected you.

“hey,” Sans said, his voice barely above a whisper “you wanna cut this short?”

“Wh-what?” you whispered back, trying not to move your mouth too much, so you didn’t ruin the mood of the fight.

“submit!” he demanded in his louder, actor’s voice, bending you back enough that you had to spread your stance wider to stay standing. He whispered close to your ear, “i mean. if you want to get back to your night out, or…whatever.” He put his other voice back on, leaning away enough to not shout in your ear. “you can’t win! just give up, and i’ll make it quick.”

“Never! I’m not going to lose so easily!” You acted, your teeth gritted. You whispered back to him, “No deal. I still want to win.” You stomped down on his foot, and the surprise of it seemed to make him loosen his grip more than actually hurting him. You freed yourself from his grasp, but he still held the end of his tie, still looped around your wrist. You reached to loosen it, but he yanked you back to him, using his ankle to sweep your legs from under you, making you fall to your knees. He then pulled your arm around your back once again, taking your wrist and bringing it around to meet the other, and tied them together loosely with the tie.

He was _definitely_ doing this on purpose.

“i promise, what i have in mind after winning this fight is of interest to both of us,” Sans murmured in your ear as he wrapped your hair around his hand and pulled it gently, making it seem as though he had you caught. You bit your lip for a moment to stifle the moan in your throat.

You had to admit; you were curious. 

“Alright, I’ll give you a chance,” you whispered back. “But it better be worth me throwing a fight.”

“i guess you’ll just have to wait and see,” he whispered, and tugged your hair playfully. Oh, you _hoped_ he was hinting at what he had in mind.

You put on a smirk and your best villain voice, feigning a struggle as you said, “Hah! You’ve underestimated human spirit, Demon Boss!” You threw your head backward suddenly, catching Sans in his midsection, and he stumbled away from you. The crowd gasped as you rocked yourself up onto your feet and faced Sans, giving your best evil grin as you pulled your wrists apart, the tie falling away easily, just as you’d thought.

“gah, even without hands you’re putting up a fight!” Sans mock-stumbled, before bringing himself to his full height. “guess i’ll have to finish this…with one final attack!” Sans was gesticulating dramatically, and you had to push down a giggle; he was pretty good at subterfuge but his acting was terrible. The crowd of monsters was eating it up, though, and even Undyne seemed to be getting into it at this point. Papyrus was shaking his head with a smile, while Mettaton was eyeing the crowd greedily. You figured ending the fight Sans’s way might not be so bad after all. Everyone seemed to be happy with this.

“That’s right, Demon Boss, come at me with everything you’ve got! Show me the true power of monsters!” You pointed at Sans for emphasis, your stance wide and steadfast, and he grinned, looking impressed by your spiel.

“okay then. here goes nothing!” He lowered himself, ready to strike, and before you knew it, he was hurtling towards you, his fist raised. He was fast. Very fast. You could feel cool air rushing at your face, as though a freight train was headed right for you, but you stood firm as he threw his whole weight and momentum behind his punch. It felt like a wall of wind suddenly struck you, resonating briefly through your body before you realised that he’d pulled the punch, his fist stopping inches from your solar plexus.

You shivered lightly with excitement. Oh. So _that’s_ why he was actually the boss.

Sans glanced up at you and gave you a tiny wink, as you gawped slightly at his strength. You could hear gasps and fevered murmuring from the crowd. “He spared the human?” “But why?”

You knew what you had to do.

“Argh!” you cried, clutching at your chest. “Ugh, you…got me. Right in the soul!” You stumbled backwards. “Ack…I know now…that I cannot win. I submit to you…Demon Boss.” You sunk to your knees in a slumped, defeated pose. “The fight is yours. Do with me what you will.”

Sans loomed over you. “you fought well, human. but you’re mine, now. and i’m going to have a lot of fun with you.” He smirked down at you, and you weren’t sure whether he was still acting or not. Your breath hitched slightly at the look in his eyes. _Oh_. He definitely wasn’t joking.

The crowd roared and cheered Sans’s name, praising the return of their estranged boss. You saw Sans give Papyrus a look, and they nodded to one another. Papyrus rounded on the crowd, raising his arms high and calling,

“SANS IS THE WINNER OF THIS EPIC FIGHT BETWEEN HUMAN AND MONSTER!”

“Come on, everybody!” Mettaton stepped up beside Papyrus, posing coquettishly. “Drinks on him at my place while we set up the auction! I’ll be happy to take bids on the way, of course!”

Another round of raucous cheering went through the crowd of monsters as they all stomped back towards Mettaton’s club, talking excitedly between them about how they knew Sans would win all along.

You watched from your slumped position and waited until the crowd had dispersed before exhaling heavily, laughing and shaking your head. That wasn’t exactly how you’d seen the fight going, but it had been really fun. “Oh, my God, I can’t believe they actually bought that!” You grinned up at Sans, who was still standing over you, his eyes on the monsters in the distance as he lit up a cigarette. He turned to you when you spoke. “I didn’t realise you were such a ham actor.”

He shrugged and grinned down at you. “you seemed to enjoy it. some of it more than the rest.”

You cleared your throat, casting your eyes away briefly. “Oh, so that was just part of the act, huh?” you asked, a bite to your words.

“why don’t you stand up and find out?” Sans’s voice was soft enough to send a shiver down your spine.

You eyed him warily. Was he really going to try to play coy now, when he had just had you practically bound and ready to fuck, surrounded by seemingly every goddamn monster in the city? You knew he had liked it, too—he had practically begged you to throw the fight, just so you could move on to a more interesting pastime. You searched his eyes for a hint of his intention for you, but all you got back was stoicism. You smiled defiantly, then, your hands on your knees as you remained kneeling. “No, I think I’m fine down here, thanks.”

“no?” Sans asked, his voice friendly at first, but  lowering as he flicked his cigarette away and continued with, “hm, you must’ve forgotten the stakes. let me remind you. i won the fight, so for the next twelve hours, you…are _mine_.” He closed the small distance between you, his fingers tracing the length of your jaw and lifting your chin somewhat roughly. You took a sharp intake of breath, your mouth parting softly at his intense gaze. “stand. up.”

Oh, _fuck_ , yes. You squirmed with the thought of him using that commanding voice while…punishing you. “Y-yes, Sir,” you breathed, trying for sarcasm but the familiar words only made you want to obey him even more. You swallowed, trying to pull yourself back from your sudden sexual headspace as you pushed yourself to your feet. You didn’t necessarily want him to know how much you wanted him, just yet. You thought he _probably_ had an idea, considering how you’d begged him to fuck you even before you’d really liked him. But still. You wanted to keep a little mystery, for posterity’s sake. 

You dusted yourself off and smoothed your dress down pointedly, turning away. You couldn’t look over at him. You knew if you looked him in the eyes, you’d—

“that’s my good girl,” he murmured, and you closed your eyes tight, your hands pausing in their task, just over your thighs. Oh, God, his _voice_ …it drove you wild. It was even worse now that you had no reservations about him. He’d all but spelled out his feelings for you, and there was no way you could deny your own feelings for him anymore. 

“open your eyes, sweetheart.”

You instinctively obeyed, and saw that his gentle commands belied the intensity of his desire for you. His eyes were blazing bright in their sockets when you locked gazes. Before either of you could stop it from happening, Sans had slipped his hand against the small of your back and pulled you close as you wrapped your arms around him, your lips finding his mouth. 

It felt so incredibly perfect, so _right_ , that you froze for a moment, overwhelmed. Sans just tangled his free hand into your hair and kissed you deeply, his magic kickstarting your heart with its hesitant exploration of your mouth. You kissed him back enthusiastically, then, making small sounds of pleasure in your throat, and heard a shudder go through his bones.

You both pulled away when the kiss naturally ended, and stared into each other’s eyes, panting softly, and you felt Sans’s breath matching yours. You knew your cheeks were flushed, and so you were pleased to see Sans blushing faintly, as well.

“Sans?” you whispered. He raised a brow bone at you. “Please take me home.”

His eyes left haloes in your vision, they shone so bright for a moment. They settled down nearly as quickly as they’d flared up, though, and he smiled up at you. “not just yet, kitten,” he said under his breath, his hand at your back wandering. You could tell he wanted to grab your ass, and you squirmed slightly, with a mix of disappointment at his words and anticipation for what else he had in mind. “we told you before that we’d show you a good time. so i’m gonna make good on that, now.”

You made a small sound of protest. “Can’t you just show me a good time in your bedroom, instead?”

He smirked. “all in due course.”

You gave a heavy, exaggerated sigh that drew a chuckle from Sans. “Well, you better be worth the wait.” Your lips pulled into a tiny smile that you couldn’t suppress. You couldn’t help yourself. You were actually happy to flirt with him, and give him the chance to prove to you that he had meant everything he’d said.

“i’ll certainly do my best to make the night memorable,” he retorted, stroking his fingers through your hair. You closed your eyes and hummed with pleasure for a moment before smiling down at him again.

“I believe in you.”

“good. because i’m also going to do my best to make sure that this isn’t your last night to make memories,” he said, resolve clear in his voice despite the mask of carelessness.

Your lips parted with surprise. “But—”

“hey, don’t worry about it. we’re still gonna party like it _is_ your last night here,” Sans quipped, giving you a half-smile. “but that’s ‘cause it’s gonna be everyone’s last night down here.”

“Sans?” you asked at his strange, serious joking, pulling back slightly to study his face. “What are you talking about?”

He just pulled you back in for another kiss, and you gave no resistance, melting into him and returning it eagerly. When he broke the kiss, he stroked your jaw with a thumb and smiled wide.

“thought i said don’t worry about it. now, come on, everyone will be waiting for us to catch up.”

Without another word, he took your hand and helped you gather your shoes and his jackets and tie, and you both set off for Mettaton’s club once more. You watched his face for any sign of what he’d been trying to tell you with his vague words, but he only smiled at you, and you decided to take his advice, and forget it for now. But in the back of your mind, and deep in your heart, you knew you couldn’t forget the way he’d looked at you in that moment—as though he would rather let the world burn than have it be your last night together.


	10. The Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk and Sans have a nice chat.

You both arrived at the club to find that Alphys had shown up as well, having heard from Undyne that Sans had been challenged by you. She’d been disappointed that she’d missed the fight, but when you explained that it hadn’t really been much of a fight, anyway, she seemed to perk up. Everyone had settled into the VIP booth, then, Mettaton calling for a round of drinks to be brought inside. You sat next to Sans, Undyne and Alphys taking the spot beside you, and you’d had to hide a smile at how adorable Alphys looked as she swung her legs in her casual clothes—a pink, eyeleted cotton pinafore dress that fell down to her bare feet, and a thick white headband resting just before her ridges.

Everyone had started chatting about the ridiculous “fight” you’d just been in with Sans. Mettaton thanked you for playing along and the buckets of money you’d made him by wearing the dress that he had already auctioned off for an obscene amount of money. You waved his thanks away, saying that you’d enjoyed playing up for the crowd, and it was his dress, after all. Undyne had offhandedly thanked Alphys for patching her up so well after her own fight, and the conversation turned to how exactly she’d gotten so beaten up in the first place. The drinks arrived just around the time that she got to the derailment of the train.

“Seriously? You _punched a train_?” Alphys cried out, staring up at Undyne with disbelief, her glasses slipping down her nose in her enthusiasm. “I can’t believe I missed that!”

You snorted into your drink, and Papyrus rolled his eyes across from you. “Please, Dr. Alphys, don’t _encourage_ her. She’ll never learn otherwise,” he said, sliding his arms down slightly, holding Mettaton around the waist as the robot shifted on his lap.

“He’s right!” Undyne cried, raising her glass in a toast to…herself? “I’ll never learn to not be a badass!”

“I’m sure Sans could teach you how,” you mumbled, smirking to yourself as you wondered if he could hear you. When Mettaton burst out laughing, you knew you’d been a little too loud to not get caught. You threw a sly grin over at Sans, but he just raised a brow bone at you, smirking. You both knew you were just bullshitting. You’d been hopelessly impressed by his fighting prowess, amongst his other…talents. 

That didn’t mean you had to stop teasing him.

“thanks, doll,” he retorted, his fingertips brushing against your collarbone lightly, his arm around your shoulders.

“No problem,” you said, enjoying his touch maybe a little too much. You were wound so tightly after his small display of dominance and the subsequent kisses that you were fairly sure he wouldn’t even have to touch you to get you to come, once you were alone. You wished you could get him just as worked up, somehow.

“Anyway, Undyne, it absolutely is not ‘badass’ to destroy such a valuable part of the public system,” Papyrus said, throwing a scolding look to Undyne, who was quaffing her drink with fervour.

You took a sip of your own drink, crossing your legs, and out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Sans watching you with great interest. You glanced at him sidelong, a brow lifted in question.

“It’s not like anybody ever really _uses_ it, though,” Alphys pointed out. You were only listening with half an ear, as your attention was on Sans, now, whose gaze flicked down to your straw, to your lips, and then back to your eyes in the space of a second. It didn’t appear intentional. You smiled impishly. 

“Yeah, but the public system is bad enough as it is without crashing the trains!” Papyrus exclaimed nerdily.

“Papyrus, darling. You know I love you. But please let’s talk about _anything but this_ ,” Mettaton said,  his eyes heavily lidded with boredom.

Looking away from Sans purposefully, you dragged the very tip of your tongue along your straw before wrapping your lips around it. You thought you heard Sans take a quick breath.

Papyrus blushed and looked down at his drink briefly with a little smile. “Well, alright then.”

“Yeah, I mean, there’s no point in talking about it because, like, I’m gonna do it again at some point,” Undyne said matter-of-factly, tossing back the rest of her drink and saying she was going for another as she stomped out of the room.

You glanced over at Sans with a knowing smirk, the straw held between your teeth. You were pleased when you felt his hand on your knee, then, squeezing softly as he watched you with obvious desire. 

Alphys looked like she was going to continue the conversation, but you were distracted by Sans leaning close and speaking low and quiet in your ear.

“you want a cigarette?”

You grinned, your head tilting down slightly as his magic sparked against your earlobe. So that’s what he’d been thinking about to put that look on his face. “Sounds great,” you whispered back.

“why don’t you grab one, then?” he asked.

“Sure. Where are they?”

“where do you think?”

You turned to look him in the eye, your eyebrows flicking up in delighted surprise. Was he really asking you to root around in his pockets when everyone else was around? He was grinning roguishly, and you gave a breathy laugh of disbelief. He was! Well, you certainly weren’t going to back down from his challenge.

Keeping his gaze locked in yours, you shifted so that your breasts were pressed against his shoulder, pushed together by you using the opposite-sided hand to reach for his cigarettes. You leaned into the crook of his neck, whispering seductively as you slipped your fingers into his pockets, “I’m just not _sure_ where they are, I think I’ll have to really look…”

You wrapped your hand around Sans’s thick thigh bone through his trouser pocket, stroking it once, slowly, exhaling against his collar bone. You pressed your body tight enough to his that his arm bone slipped between your breasts. You could feel his magic start to crackle against your skin, and you leaned your head back enough to see his reaction. He was looking at you with knowing, heavy-lidded eyes, his pupils like pinpricks. You gave him a slow, triumphant smile.

“Oops, _that’s_ not them,” you simpered, teasing your fingertips along the inside of his femur. He grinned back at you secretly, and his magic rippled along your breasts, feeling almost like an arm flexing. You arched into him, urging him silently to do it again.

“Oh my _goodness_ , I _thought_ I smelled magic,” Mettaton’s scandalised voice came, and you smiled wide, peering over at him as your fingers touched the pack of cigarettes in Sans’s pocket. “Darling, I’m positively _blushing_.”

Sure enough, the panels below his eyes lit up with LED lights—a pretty pink colour—as he held his hands up to his cheeks. He was pretending to cover his eyes, but he was very obviously peeking through his fingers. You poked your tongue out cheekily between your teeth and slid the cigarettes out and wiggled it between your index and middle finger so that everyone could see. “Just following orders,” you explained in an innocent voice.

“And to think of all the times Sans has complained to you about the sweet, chaste kisses _we_ share,” Mettaton said, speaking to Papyrus, who nodded. “Such a _hypocrite_.”

“Mettaton, everyone here knows you’re not programmed to understand the meaning of ‘chaste.’” Alphys’s voice was flat but amused as Undyne came back carrying a full pitcher, and she took a drink of her soda to punctuate her statement, leaning against Undyne’s arm.

“And _whose_ fault is that, Alphys?” Mettaton snapped back sullenly. “I mean, would it have killed you to at least give me the _option_?”

“You specifically requested that I ’turn you up and rip off that dial.’”

“Hah! Classic Mettaton.” Papyrus shook his head, smiling at his lover.

Mettaton chuckled. “Ah, touché. I suppose I can’t complain, I didn’t get where I am today by acting like I belong in a nunnery.”

“Understatement of the century,” Undyne muttered as you slipped your hand in Sans’s, threading your fingers with his. You popped a cigarette out of the pack one-handed and held it up for him to take, tossing the pack aside once he had. You reached up to light his cigarette, but when you snapped your fingers to call your fire, a raging fireball appeared in its place, incinerating it instantly.

Everyone exclaimed with surprise, you most of all. You jerked away from Sans, before leaning in again immediately and inspecting him for signs of injury. “Oh, my God, Sans, I’m so sorry, are you okay, I swear I didn’t know that would happen!” you rambled, touching his face lightly, your eyebrows knitted with worry. He didn’t have a scratch on him, thank God. He was watching you with curious, wide eyes, but he otherwise appeared wholly unperturbed. You breathed a sigh of relief.

“Oh. My. _God_.”

You looked over your shoulder to see Alphys staring at you, her eyes greedy. “Uh,” you said. “Look, I really didn’t mean to do that, so—”

“Do it _again_ ,” Alphys said, her palms flat on the table as she leaned closer to you.

“Um,” you mumbled, squirming uncomfortably. You really didn’t like the idea of trying that again. You’d never, _ever_ , been able to do more than a small flame before. You didn’t know why this time had been different. “I, uh, don’t really know _how_.”

“That might be for the best, to be honest,” Papyrus commented.

“Yes, this building isn’t exactly…fireproof,” Mettaton said, giving a robotic cough. When everyone else gave him looks of disbelief, he exclaimed, “What? I didn’t get to be this rich by adhering to health and safety regulations!”

“What?!” Undyne shouted, obviously more than a little drunk at this point, her eye narrowed. “But you have vulcans out there shaking their magma around!”

“Undyne, dear, don’t body shame, it’s not a good look on you,” Mettaton sassed, tossing his hair.

“well, guess I need another cigarette,” Sans remarked, chuckling. “gimme a hand, doll?”

You grabbed the pack of cigarettes again, grateful for the distraction from your magical mishap. You hesitated, one held between your fingers. “Uh, maybe you should just light it this time.”

Sans grinned, carelessly shrugging a shoulder. “didn’t bring any matches.”

“Do you _ever_ bring them?” you asked, shaking your head.

“why would i, with you around?” Sans asked, and you made a sound of mild disgust, smiling to yourself. You knew he was probably lying about the matches, but there was no reason to make a big deal out of it. Even if Alphys was looking at you over her glasses as though you were a particularly fascinating specimen.

“Fair enough,” you said, taking a cigarette and propping it between your lips, talking around it. “But I’m lighting it on _me_ , just in case.”

You felt like everyone was watching you as you lifted your hand and snapped. The normal, lighter-sized flame appeared between your fingers, and you blinked and lit the cigarette, inhaling deeply. You exhaled slowly, enjoying the buzz of magic.

“hey, look at that,” Sans said, and reached out, his fingers crooked towards you. You made to hand off the cigarette, but as you did, you noticed the runes scorched into his hand and arm were glowing faintly, a purplish-blue light ebbing rapidly from them, until they appeared to be smouldering. It was exactly the same as when he’d used his magic against you the night before. “guess it was just a fluke.”

You stared at him as Alphys made a disappointed sound. He looked back at you with a lazy smile, and you tilted your head slightly as you wondered whether he was going to explain what had just happened. You weren’t sure if it even mattered.

“Are…are you _sure_ you can’t recreate it?” Alphys was asking you. You scooted back into place next to Sans and tucked yourself against him, leaning your head up to silently ask him for another drag off the cigarette. With an affectionate gaze, he held it out for you, and you puffed lightly, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck as you exhaled. God, it was like your whole body was on fire when you touched him, even without any sexual intent. No wonder you couldn’t keep away from him.

“Dunno what to tell you,” you said, half-apologetically, and half-bored, throwing a smile to Alphys. Your magic tricks were even less interesting down here than they had been on the surface. Especially considering the company you held at the moment. You could understand the novelty for them, if they thought humans didn’t have magic, but it was difficult for you to be excited for them.

“Well…I suppose, after tomorrow, I’ll at least be able to examine you,” she said, pushing her glasses up absently. She seemed to be thinking out loud. “Hopefully it isn’t the SOUL that gives you the magic. I doubt Sans will give me the chance to have a look at that before—”

“No offence, Dr. Alphys, but maybe that topic is best kept to yourself tonight,” Papyrus was saying embarrassedly, glancing between you.

“Hm?” Alphys asked, then seemed to catch on to what he was indicating, and she went a bit red in the face. “Oh, God, sorry—I tend to forget stuff like that when I see something scientifically fascinating.”

“Ah, that’s why you’re so damn cute, though!” Undyne said drunkenly, landing a sloppy kiss on Alphys, who looked pleased at her words as she kissed her back. You took another offered puff from Sans’s cigarette, and watched the two of them get increasingly more interested in making out with each other rather than talk. You laughed breathily, turning with raised eyebrows to Sans.

“So this is how you guys have fun? Just hang out in dark rooms making out with each other?” you mumbled, trying not to giggle.

“hey, if you have a better way to pass the time, i’d like to hear it,” Sans retorted, smiling down at you. Your lips curled into a decidedly more seductive smirk.

“Well…” you said softly, and that single word sent a wave of tension through his bones. You could feel his joints tightening.

“impatient little kitten,” he said, his voice rumbling as he pulled you into a deep kiss, his magic pressing into your mouth hungrily. You stifled a gasp, crossing your legs a bit tighter. He broke the kiss when a throat was cleared across the table.

“Well, it seems as though this room has turned into a brothel all of a sudden!” Papyrus was saying in a way that made it clear he was hoping everyone could hear. You turned to see him standing and holding a hand out to Mettaton. “Would you like to dance, Mettaton?”

Mettaton looked slightly devastated at that, glancing between you, Sans, Alphys and Undyne with jealousy before sighing heavily. “Oh, go on then. It’s not like any of them would ever do anything that interesting, anyway.” He took Papyrus’s hand and they both headed out to the dance floor.

“Oh! Hey, wait! Mettaton, wait up! I wanna dance, too!” Alphys called between Undyne kissing her. She broke away and dragged a very drunk Undyne after her as she followed Mettaton and Papyrus. Undyne was grumbling in protest as she closed the door behind them, but she was still smiling, so you figured she was actually fine with it.

You turned to ask Sans if he wanted to dance with you, too, but without warning he caught you up in a sudden passionate kiss that elicited a whimper from you. You kissed him back once the surprise had cleared, wrapping an arm around him and holding the back of his skull with a hand. The other tugged at his shirt until it came untucked, allowing you to slip your hand inside and slide your palm along his ribs. He groaned softly into the kiss as you touched him, and you pulled away, breathless.

“Is that okay?” you asked, your eyes heavily lidded as you locked gazes with him. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”

Sans just chuckled low in his throat and bent in for a kiss to your neck, his hand stroking along your upper thigh. “sweetheart, do i look like i’m in pain?”

“True,” you said simply, tilting your head to give him better access, and he nuzzled against your skin before biting firmly on your neck. It was possessive and almost feral, and you moaned loudly at the coil of desire it sent through you.

He leaned back to look you in the eye as he pulled you sideways into his lap, his fingers sliding high enough to dip under your skirt, and his eyes flashed with excitement when he noticed your lack of panties. You smirked devilishly, spreading your legs slightly for him. “god, frisk, were you like this the whole time we fought?” he asked, smiling with delight.

“Mm, the whole time I’ve been down here, actually,” you told him, laughing softly at the look on his face. “Why?” you asked innocently, lifting your hips slightly to tease his fingertips against the apex of your thighs. “Do you not like it?”

Instead of answering, Sans just growled under his breath and met your lips with another kiss. It muffled your whines of pleasure as his fingers teased all around your sex. You were trying to be quiet, but it was difficult when you were fully surrounded by Sans, his magic crackling into life and licking at your bare skin as he pulled you sideways into his lap. There was so much more of it for his magic to reach this time, and it was a little overwhelming, all the sensations at once.

Sans backed off slightly after he noticed how distracted your kisses were, his magic focusing more on the areas he knew would make you squirm. You panted as you unbuttoned his shirt, pausing to press your palms against his rune-marked sternum for support as his fingers found your clit, circling it lazily. You bit your lip to keep a moan from escaping.

“what’s wrong, sweetheart? having a hard time keeping quiet?” Sans murmured in your ear as one of his fingers pushed inside you. You shuddered, your thighs squeezing together against his arm bones. Oh, God, yes, that was what you needed—what you’d needed from him since you’d met him. His eyes sparked at the look you gave him, your lips parted softly, your cheeks warm. “look at you,” he said, his voice deep and ragged. “you’re like a kitten in heat, writhing against me. you want it bad, don’t you?”

You pressed your hips down to encourage him deeper inside your slick pussy, burying your face against his neck. “God, yes—please, Sans,” you begged, only slightly hesitant at the reminder of the last time you’d said those words to him. He didn’t seem to be anywhere close to rejecting you this time, however, with his fingers curling inside you at the sound of you whimpering his name. “Please, I need you, right now. I can’t wait anymore.”

“heh,” he laughed without humour, somehow sounding breathless. He tangled his other hand into your hair and pulled you back gently, looking deep in your eyes, his pupils pulsing slowly. “okay, sweetheart, i won’t make you wait. but you have to promise to be quiet.” He slid his fingers out of you, smiling at your protests, which were instantly cut off when he slipped them inside his mouth instead, as if tasting you. He made a deep, guttural hum of pleasure, and you gaped slightly, your whole body rousing at the sound.

“ _Sans_ ,” you breathed, and without any other persuasion needed, he took you by the waist and pushed you away, lifting you onto the table in front of him. Your heart sank briefly with the thought that he was rejecting you again, after all, but then he hooked your knees over his shoulders and buried his face between your thighs, your dress hiked up to your hips. You made a sound between a moan and a laugh, pleasant surprise being an understatement of what you were feeling.

His magic was there to meet your clit, stroking and kneading against it as you braced your feet against the back of the booth, leaning onto your elbows, your head thrown back with pleasure. Oh, fuck, it was perfect. It was so fucking good, it took your breath away. He hiked you up closer to him, his hands squeezing and stroking your thighs, his magic licking at you steadily. He groaned softly into your pussy, as though you were the best thing he’d ever tasted. You had to press your wrist to your mouth, biting it hard to keep your own moans muffled, as you were already tensing deep inside, so close to coming already—so close—oh, God—almost there—

A knock came at the door.

You and Sans froze, his face peeking up from between your legs, your pussy throbbing with complaint at the interruption. You thought you might cry with frustration. “Oh, my God, no, go away,” you whined under your breath to the person at the door. 

Sans sat up with a frustrated growl when the knocking came again. “this better be important,” he called.

“Sans, uh…there’s someone who wants to talk to you,” Papyrus’s concerned and apologetic voice drifted through the door, and you pushed yourself into a sitting position, your dress falling back into place. “About some business.”

“then _you_ handle it, papyrus. i’m kinda…in the middle of something here.” He was staring intently in your eyes.

“I know, Sans, but…they were _very_ insistent on speaking to the boss.” He paused, then said, “I don’t want them causing trouble with so many people here.”

Sans let out an exasperated groan and pushed himself to his feet. “fucking—fine.” He looked down at you, obviously incredibly frustrated by his responsibilities. You managed a little smile. “gimme your hand,” he mumbled, offering his left hand to you. You took it without hesitation, expecting him to help you to your feet, but instead you felt a sudden great rush of air, and you were somewhere else entirely. It looked like a very posh hotel room.

“wait for me, okay?” Sans said, his voice soft as he looked up at you, giving your hand a squeeze. “this really won’t take long.”

“Is that an order?” you retorted cheekily.

  Sans winked at you and was suddenly gone.

You exhaled with a growl of frustration, stomping over to the bed and flopping down spread-eagle. You were still incredibly aroused, despite your annoyance with whoever had interrupted you and Sans. You’d been this close. 

_This. Close._

You folded your legs toward your hands, unbuckling your shoes and kicking them off as you looked around the room. It was dimly-lit, so you couldn’t see much, but it seemed very tastefully yet sumptuously decorated, like a much larger and more plush version of your room back in Snowdin.

You scooted back against the headboard of the bed, your legs stretched out before you as you turned on the TV. Your fingers drummed against your folded arms, your ankles crossed to help you forget your arousal as you stared blankly at the movie starring Mettaton that was playing.

It didn’t help.

Your foot started bouncing with impatience against your leg, your hands in your lap. You couldn’t stop thinking about Sans pressing into you, licking you and making those sounds with his sexy voice. His skull had been smooth and warm, tucked perfectly between your thighs, his fingers insistent as they clung to you. He’d been so eager, obviously wanting to make you come then and there, despite the chance of being caught.

Oh, God, thinking like this wasn’t helping your frustration.

You knew what _could_ help, though.

But Sans had told you to wait for him. You didn’t particularly want to do anything without him, right now. You wanted to release that mountain of tension you had built up, but you wanted it to be with _him_. He was taking so long, though—the movie you were watching had finished already, and a new one was starting that was practically the same—and you had no idea when he’d be back. He’d said he wouldn’t take long, but not very long had already passed, and you were getting antsy.

What if he didn’t come back all night?

Were you just supposed to go to sleep and pretend like you couldn’t feel how wet you still were?

Fuck _that_.

“Sorry, Sans,” you laughed apologetically as you slid your legs up, spreading and bracing them against the mattress. Your fingers met your clit with familiar pressure, and you gasped softly into the silence, letting your head fall back against the headboard. Your back arched at how little stimulation you needed; you were still keyed up from Sans’s keen attention. You slid your middle and ring finger inside you, thrusting as you rubbed your clit with the pad of your thumb. 

You moaned, thinking of Sans’s fingers inside you, instead, the rumble of his voice against your ear, telling you were a naughty girl for not waiting for him. You bit your lip at the thought of him spanking you, and your pussy tightened with anticipation. Oh, God, you wanted him there so badly—wanted him inside you, around you, touching you everywhere. You ached to kiss him, to lick his bones as he pounded into you, to hear him moan your name, telling you that he l—

He was there.

Standing at the foot of the bed, watching you with wide, intent eyes, his pupils burning in their sockets.

You gave a guilty squeak, your legs dropping down to the bed, your hand whipping out from beneath your skirt. You hadn’t even noticed he was there, you’d been so into your thoughts of him. You had a brief moment of silent laughter for the irony of that, but that quickly fled at Sans’s quiet, amused words.

“thought I told you to wait for me.”

You gave a cheeky smile, shrugging a shoulder.

He nodded, humming low in his throat. “well?” he asked, gesturing as he stepped slowly around the perimeter of the bed until he stood over you. You looked up at him, breathless with expectation. “did i tell you to stop?”

Your heart skipped before pounding hard against your ribs. Oh, God, that was hot. “You’re not…annoyed with me?” you asked, licking your lips unconsciously. You could hear the arousal in your own voice as you spoke, your voice much lower, and slightly rough. “You aren’t going to punish me?”

“never said that, kitten.”

Your breath quickened as he held his hand out to you. You took it without hesitation, and he pulled you to him. You melted into his kiss, his magic wrapping around you like a warm, static blanket. It smelled of air before a rainstorm, of lightning strikes in summer, of the heat from a flame close enough to lick your skin. One of his hands held the small of your back, while the other gripped your ass under your dress, his finger bones digging into you. Your lips were parted to let him in, and he met your tongue eagerly. 

You gripped at his hip bones instinctively, wanting to grind your hips against him, but knowing there would be nothing to meet you. When he gave you a sudden spank, though, you moaned and arched against him anyway, unconsciously. He pulled back to look you in the eye as you panted with the lust flooding through you. He grinned, stroking the sore spot on your ass feather-light.

“you’re such a bad girl,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your warm cheek as he nuzzled down to your neck. “you were wanting to be punished, weren’t you? you wanted me—” he punctuated his words with another spank, and you whimpered with desire, your fingers scraping against his bones. “—to see you.” 

You hummed and nodded, and his fingers traced the line of your ass until he was at the entrance of your pussy. You spread your knees unconsciously, and his knee came up between them, his thigh bone sliding against you as he guided you down onto it. He held your hips and rocked you against him as you kissed again, your clit throbbing with the stimulation.

“Sans,” you moaned between kisses, your hands working to unbutton his shirt, fumbling with your eagerness. “God, please—I’ve never needed anyone like I need you.”

He laughed breathlessly, shrugging his shirt off and revealing the runes that were burned along his arms and across his clavicle, winding around a large sigil over where his heart would be. “i know exactly what you mean, sweetheart,” he said, kissing you deeply as one of his hands moved from your hips to unzip your dress.

You unbuttoned his trousers as he slipped the straps of your dress forward off your shoulders and arms, leaving you mostly naked. He dipped his head to one of your breasts instantly, his magic licking at the nipple delicately, making you squirm and gasp, arching to his mouth. At the same time, he slipped your dress off your hips, kicking his own trousers and shoes off. You watched him, your heartbeat thudding in your ears as he rolled your nipple between his teeth, smiling up at you.

Then you were lifted into the air, and you squeaked as you held your limbs close to your body, peering down at the space between you and the bed. “Sans!” you protested with a laugh as you turned with slight difficulty, holding your arms out to him as he sat himself casually against the headboard, his legs stretched in front of him. “Let me down!”

He was grinning, obviously enjoying watching you squirm in the air. He shrugged and winked. “okay, if you say so.”

You landed on your hands and knees just over him, your faces inches apart. You stared into his eyes, smiling back at his intense gaze, full of something like affection. “hey,” he whispered, his voice indescribably causing your heart to ache. “looks like you fell for me, after all.”

You gaped at him before laughing and sitting up, scooting forward until you straddled him, as he ran his hands along your thighs and settled on your hips. “Did you really just waste magic on lifting me up for that terrible callback?”

He smiled up at you with heavy lidded eyes, and your heart clenched again. Oh, God, he was looking at you like he—like he really—

“made you smile, didn’t it?”

Like he loved you.

Your lips parted softly at the thought, but you pushed it away, focusing on the present. You didn’t know what to do with that, right now, but what you _did_ know was that you wanted him more than anyone you’d ever met. Instead of responding to him, you just wrapped your arms around his neck, tilting his head to meet your kiss. He leaned up into your lips, his hands moving to tangle in your hair. 

You just kissed like that for a few moments, oddly chaste despite the fact that you were both naked, your legs straddling his hips. But the longer you kissed, the more heated you became, his magic crackling to life as he held you tight against his bones. When you stroked along his vertebrae and down his shoulders, he shuddered, and you took that as encouragement. Your hands continued their exploration of his body, his magic surrounding you again and pressing against the entrance of your pussy the more you touched him. He moaned as you began rocking your hips against him, his magic crackling and rolling against your clit and drawing a responding whimper from you.

You pulled back from kissing him to watch his reaction as you lifted yourself slightly away from him. You waited until he was looking you in the eye before you arched your hips and thrust down against him, his magic slipping deep inside you. His eyes fell shut as you tightened your muscles around him, both of you shuddering with pleasure.

“Oh, my God,” you moaned in a high, breathy voice, your head falling back as you rolled your hips, teasing yourself. His magic was crackling feverishly inside you, tickling you in a way that drove you wild. “Oh, my God, it’s so fucking perfect.”

He took your hips and thrust you down onto him again hard, his hips rising to meet you. “oh, fuck, frisk, oh _fuck_ —” he groaned, his bones creaking with the tension in his joints. He pulled you down for a quick, deep kiss before breaking away, his eyes glowing intensely as he growled, “don’t fucking stop until you come.”

You whined with pleasure at his command, obeying without hesitation, riding him hard and fast. His thumb worked at your clit, his mouth finding one nipple as his hand kneaded the other, and your pussy throbbed and clenched as tension built deep inside you. The sound of his moans and pants were pushing you closer to orgasm faster and faster. Oh, _yes_ —oh _God_ —he was going to make you come, and you wanted nothing more than to make him come, too.

“ _Sans_ ,” you moaned, gripping the headboard as you rode him desperately. You were so close already— _fuck_ , you were _so close—_ “ _Sans, please_!”

“come for me, kitten, i need to hear you come!” he gasped, burying his face against your breasts, his hand pressing against your back as he moaned, shuddering. “i can’t hold on—i’m going to—”

“Oh— _God—fuck—yes_!” you cried at his words, thrusting him deep inside you as you came, your orgasm exploding through your whole body. Sans groaned loudly a second after, his bones crackling as he tensed tight, then rattling softly when he slumped into you. He was breathing heavily, his face still tucked against your breasts as you both came down slowly, your fingertips stroking the beads of water from his skull as his magic dissipated. You couldn’t tell if it was actually sweat or just condensation, but either way, it felt nice against your hot skin. 

Finally he pulled back enough to look you in the eyes, his pupils bright in his wide eye sockets. He was looking at you the same way he had before, and your stomach twisted with butterflies. How could he look at you like that, knowing what was going to happen tomorrow? Knowing that there was no way you could ever reciprocate without some sacrifice made?

Even so, you still couldn’t look away.

“Sans…” you began, your hands interlocked behind his neck, your thumbs stroking his skull. You really didn’t want to have to tell him to stop feeling like he obviously was, but if he didn’t, he would be hurt when the end came. You didn’t want to hurt him.

“hey, no,” Sans jumped in before you could continue, stroking his fingers through your hair. “don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” you asked, settling down against his legs with a sigh, your hands dropping to your thighs. “Like maybe you’re about to say something you’ll regret?”

“why would I regret it?” Sans asked, jostling you playfully as he took your hands. “frisk, listen, I really do—”

You shook your head once, hard. “Sans, please, don’t _say_ it.” You looked in his eyes sadly, but he just looked back calmly. “You’ll only be hurt later if you say it.”

“why? because you think i’m going to take your SOUL tomorrow?” he asked, letting your hands go and holding his arms out to you. After a second’s hesitation, you gave in to your desire, tucking yourself against his side and clinging to him as he wrapped his arms around you. You exhaled with a shudder, the full body contact with him like a balm for your heart. He turned and kissed your head, nuzzling against your hair as he murmured, “or is it because you want to say it too, _despite_ what might happen tomorrow?”

You traced the runes on his sternum, unwilling to admit to the truth of what he was suggesting. You couldn’t let him know that, despite your desire to see the villagers punished for their betrayal, you no longer wanted to give up your chance at a good life. When you’d made him promise that, you’d been full of righteous anger, and hadn’t ever considered the possibility that Sans would…

Would make you regret it.

“what if I told you that you didn’t have to choose?” Sans whispered, holding you tight to him. 

Your lips twisted with wry humour, and instead of answering, you just shrugged against him.

“because i know what you’re thinking, frisk. you think because i promised to take care of those humans on the surface in exchange for your SOUL, that you’re going to die tomorrow. you’re thinking that there’s no use in saying something like…you know…because it’ll only last tonight.”

You placed your palm flat against the sigil burned into his chest. Something about it seemed so familiar, but you were distracted by Sans’s words. He was right, of course, but you didn’t want to admit it. You didn’t want him to have any ammunition to prove you wrong. You just wanted to kiss him, and hold him, and just enjoy the rest of the night, because there weren’t going to be any guarantees once the morning came.

“but frisk…what you didn’t know, was that i was never going to be able to take your SOUL.” He was speaking so low that you could barely hear it, even so close. He sounded a little ashamed, a little nervous. You shifted your head up to look at him while still resting against him, but his face was turned away, into the dark. “even though i—i tried—i knew from the moment i spoke to you that i wasn’t going to be able to give you up.”

Your lips parted softly with surprise, but he was already speaking again, low, and quick, as though he had to get it all out before he could stop himself.

“you were so strong, and so beautifully spirited, and even though you’d obviously just been through something awful, you were just so—full of _life_.” He paused, before scraping a hand over his skull, sounding frustrated. “i—i didn’t know what to do. i ended up just making things worse, by panicking when i realised how much i liked you. i wasn’t supposed to like you, i was supposed to just take your SOUL and free everyone. that’s all i’ve wanted to do for so long, ever since the riots took our brother, and so many others.” He sighed softly. “but seeing you laugh, and dancing with you, and—” You silently supplied the words to fill his pause, a half-smile on your lips: almost having sex in his kitchen after almost killing each other. “—well. let’s just say i haven’t slept much since you fell.”

You lowered your eyes back to his runes, tracing them once more. You heard him shudder lightly against your touch, and your heart ached with the deep feelings taking root. So _that’s_ what had happened—why he had acted out so stupidly. He’d been pulled in two directions: duty and his feelings for you, despite his need to take your soul. He really hadn’t handled it well, you thought with a creeping smile. You sat up enough to catch his eye, before giving him a wide smile and a soft little chop on his head.

“Dummy!”

He gave you a wide-eyed, confused smile, and you shook your head. “If you’d just told me all this _then_ , I would have _offered_ my soul. I expected to die on the way down, and even when I didn’t, I still thought you guys were gonna kill me, or eat me, or something worse. If you’d told me you needed my life to _save people_ , I would have understood. It would have saved us all this heartache.”

Sans looked surprised at that, before his eyes fell, and a small, secretive smile came to his face. “yeah? guess that’s pretty funny, huh.” He looked back up into your eyes, and your heart clenched. “i’m not sorry it happened the way it did, though. because if i _wasn’t_ stupid—if we hadn’t tried to deceive you—none of this would have happened. instead of being in my arms, you’d be lying in a bed marked ‘7.’” He laughed softly. “even if i had to do it all over again, i’d still do the same.”

“Are you saying that if you were given another chance, you wouldn’t choose to do the right thing?” you asked, eyebrows raised.

“i told you—you’re assuming i _have_ to choose.”

You blinked. “Well? I thought that was kind of a given, Sans. You can’t use my soul to save everyone _and_ have a happily ever after with me. Especially since I _want_ you to use it.”

Sans smiled again, and leaned down to give you a soft, sweet kiss, and your eyes fluttered shut, your heart swelling with emotion. Oh, God, you were too far gone to deny it anymore, weren’t you? Not to yourself, not to him, not to anyone. “remember that plan i mentioned before?” You nodded, and he ran his hand through your hair, his eyes studying your face. “well, let’s just say i’m pretty confident it’ll work—no SOUL-stealing required. especially after what i’ve seen tonight.” His hand slid down to cup your face, his thumb stroking your cheek. “i’m just gonna need you to trust me.”

You smiled slowly. “You think I would’ve done something like this with you if I didn’t trust you?”

His face got a decidedly snarky expression on it. “i dunno, you were looking pretty squirmy back at the bar. i’m thinkin’ if mettaton had looked at you the right way, you would’ve tried to jump him.”

You smirked. “You really think Mettaton could’ve handled me?”

“good point. you might be a little too much of a challenge for him,” he teased, winking.

“Oh, my God—such a _dick_ ,” you slapped his chest roughly, laughing. “Stop talking like I’m some kind of—untamed filly!”

“hey, would you be in bed with me if you weren’t into being tamed?” he asked, grinning roguishly, his eyes full of affection as he pulled you close again.

“Who said you’ve tamed me?” you retorted flirtatiously.

“You’re looking pretty submissive right now,” he remarked, his voice lowering seductively, though he was still smiling.

Your breath hitched softly at his challenging look, a shiver of interest running down your spine and settling between your thighs. “I don’t know—I might surprise you.” You slid your hand along his sternum and up to the back of his skull, tilting your head for a kiss.

He leaned in, whispering, “i was hoping you’d say that,” and pulled you into a deep kiss, his words promising that you weren’t going to be getting much sleep that night, either.

If it turned out Sans had been wrong about his plan working, after all, you thought this was exactly the way you’d want to spend your last night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huehuehuehuehuhehuhhhhh
> 
> So! I have a lot--like a LOT--of things to discuss/ask!
> 
> First off! Thank you all so much for reading/kudos/comments/being awesome! I'm super psyched that you've all liked this one so much, and with it being Very Nearly Done, I'm super psyched to see what you all think of the ending.
> 
> Secondly! There are quite a few things I wanted to ask everyone if they'd be interested in reading, just to get opinions. First is a little one-off of the sex that happens directly after this chapter. It was originally going to be included, but because of reasons, I thought it would work better off-screen. But! If you guys want to see it, I can post it. 
> 
> The other things are what you guys would like to see after this, with regards to this story. There is a LOT of backstory to this particular Underground, but since it isn't particularly important to Frisk's story, I've left it out to maintain momentum. But I'd like to write it at some point, and if anyone is interested, I'll post it. Mind, there likely won't be any romance pairings. Just a lot of interesting relationships between everyone.
> 
> The other thing would be a Sans-POV thing that would go over the interesting parts of this same story, obviously only from Sans's point of view. So! You know, if there is interest there to know what he's been thinking during all this madness, I'll do it.
> 
> Either way, thank you guys! See ya'll next tiiiiime!


	11. The Old King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk meets the king.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really sorry it took so long. Like really, really sorry. There's been a lot of whacked out poo brain going on with me. A lot of stuff holding me back. Then after I got a little bit over it, I started a new story.
> 
> -robotic cough-
> 
> So! Uh, yeah. This is the penultimate chapter. I...I'd like to say I know when the end will come out, but uhhh...I don't!
> 
> Ehh...heh...heh.
> 
> Sorryohmygodpleaseforgivemeforbeinghorrible.

In the morning, Sans rang up Papyrus asking where everyone was, while you got dressed again. You’d taken a shower after you’d woken up, and after another bit of fun that neither of you had intended to do, you were ready to go meet up with them. As you re-dressed in the clothes that Sans had fetched for you to wear instead of your dress, you felt flutters of nerves in your stomach.

“hey,” Sans said to you as you slammed your feet into your boots with more force than necessary. You looked up at him with raised brows. “you sure you’re ready for this?”

You shrugged weakly, smiling. “It felt different when there was a whole night left.”

“i know what you mean,” Sans said, his eyes full of understanding. He held out his arms to you, and you went to him. “don’t worry.” His hand stroked along your spine soothingly. You let him just hold you for another moment before nodding against him and stepping back.

“Okay, let’s go.”

Still holding your hand, he zipped both of you to just in front of an unfamiliar home, the front door open for anyone to just wander in. From where you stood, you could see Alphys, Undyne, Mettaton and Papyrus gathered together in front of a stairwell. You saw them speaking exuberantly to each other, but as you both approached, their gazes turned.

“Oh, look who’s decided to show up to his party,” Alphys said, smirking at both of you. Her eyes settled on Sans. “You’re late.”

“yeah?” Sans responded, shrugging his shoulder. “so? ’s’not like you guys were going ahead without us.”

“We could have, if you weren’t being so ridiculous with this plan of yours,” she snapped.

“welp, sorry to disappoint, but i am, and we’re still the party stars,” Sans said, smiling wide as you both drew up to the four of them, closing their semi-circle.

Alphys sighed. “Fine, Sans, be that way. But if you die, we’re _not_ shooting your dust out of a cannon.”

“what? why not?” Sans asked indignantly as you cracked up into the back of your hand, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. “it’s my final request.”

“Well it’s _my_ final request that you don’t get to be shot out of a cannon if you ruin everything for all of us with recklessness.” Alphys had her arms crossed, and was looking over her glasses at Sans, who had his shoulders shrugged in supplication.

“come _on_ , that’s hardly fair, alph,” Sans complained, turning to Papyrus, who was shaking his head. “papyrus, you gonna let her take away my final will and testament?”

“Sans,” Papyrus began, his voice patient as Undyne snorted. “I hardly think it matters _whose_ final will is honoured, at the moment, considering the implications for everyone if you fail.”

“Not to mention the chance of fucking up has increased pretty stupidly now that you’re taking that walking nuclear reactor in there with you,” Undyne muttered, thrusting her chin at you.

“ _And_ let’s not forget that even if you somehow put Asgore down, there’s always the humans outside you promised to kill, too,” Mettaton noted helpfully, inspecting his metallic fingernails dismissively.

Alphys rolled her eyes. “Oh, Lord, I forgot about that,” she sighed again, taking her phone out of her lab coat’s pockets and peering down at the screen. “I better call Toriel and tell her to get the evacuation plan ready to go.”

“thanks for the pep talk, guys,” Sans said, giving a thumbs-up before taking your hand and heading to the stairs down to the basement. “don’t do anything i wouldn’t do.”

“Sans,” Papyrus said, reaching out to touch his brother’s shoulder, his face suddenly incredibly serious. Sans stopped and looked up at him. “Don’t die.”

Sans looked back at him for a moment before smiling genuinely and shrugging. Papyrus clapped him once on the shoulder and stepped back again, nodding at Sans. Undyne put her arm around Alphys’s shoulders as she gave you a little casual salute.

“Hey. You’re not so bad, for a human. Was nice meeting you, punk.”

You blinked back at Undyne, your lips parting softly. What could you possibly say to that? Especially considering how serious everyone was as they nodded in agreement with the sentiment. Papyrus looked as though he wanted to say more to you, but he turned away, seemingly unable to find the words. Mettaton, his eyes on Papyrus as he struggled, looked to you with a rueful smile, saying,

“Knock ‘em dead, darling.”

You smiled slowly at everyone, your heart constricting. “Thanks, guys. You’ve all been…not so bad, yourselves.” You swallowed past the sudden thickness in your throat. “Guess I’ll catch you on the other side, huh?” You gave a little wave back to all of them as casually as you could before Sans tugged your hand gently, and you followed him down into the basement. You gripped his hand tight in yours as you looked up to the ceiling, feeling foolish for getting so upset. You’d known the end was coming. You shouldn’t be so bothered by goodbye. At least you’d gotten the chance to say it, this time.

You shook your head, biting your lip softly. You weren’t going to cry about this. You’d lost more than a few friends in your life, and, well, this time you were losing your life to save a few friends.

“you’re gonna feel pretty silly when you have to see them again after being so cool.”

You looked down at Sans as he spoke with a soft, amused voice. He was looking sidelong at you with a half-smile, his fingers entwined with yours. You gave a puff of laughter, your eyes slightly blurry.

“I feel pretty silly already,” you said, pleasantly surprised at how steady your voice was. Not a single quiver.

Sans’s smile widened. “why, because you made friends with a bunch of ‘demons?’”

“No,” you said, shaking your head again thoughtfully. “Mostly because I made friends at all. If I had just left you at the table, a couple days ago…” You laughed once, loud and full of disbelief. “If I hadn’t tried to—” You cut yourself off. “Well, I wouldn’t have made friends with the people about to kill me.”

“you always do what we did last night with your friends?” Sans asked, the lights of his eyes flashing bright for a moment.

You smiled. “Really? I’m telling you that I’m regretting ever making attachments because I’m about to die to save my friends, and all you can do is get jealous at my past relationships?” You tutted. “That’s pretty shallow, Sans. Very not suave.”

Sans chuckled. “hey, who said i was jealous? i was just asking a question that is relevant to my interests.” He paused as you laughed at him, smiling up at you. “i’m a lot more interested in what _we’ll_ be doing after we’re through here, than what you’ve ever done before.”

“Sans,” you sighed, still smiling. “Why do you keep trying to ignore the possibility that things could go wrong? If Alphys and everyone else is so worried about it, shouldn’t you at least try to plan for it?”

“papyrus isn’t worried,” Sans said.

“Sans,” you stressed, pulling him back gently before he could go through the archway to a warmly-lit room. He let you, turning to face you bodily, and you held his face with your hands at his jaw. He tried to turn his gaze away at first, but your silent persistence got him eventually, and he looked back up at you with melancholic amusement. You returned it with a sad smile of your own. “Hey. Why are you so scared to admit that you might have to end up taking my soul? It’s not like saying the words is going to _actually_ remove my soul. Right?”

“i dunno. i mean, i’ve never really tried. maybe it’s like a magic cave, and just saying ‘open sesame’ in the right way pops your SOUL out,” he said, and when you gave him a flat, expectant look, he gave a sort of half-laugh, half-sigh. “look, i thought i told you you’d have to trust me.”

“And I do,” you said without hesitation, knowing it to be true. “But I also trust that you’ll use the other option available if your plan falls through.”

“see, that’s where i’m having the problem,” he said, his eyes dimming to small pinpricks. He reached up and held a hand over one of yours. “because it’s not an option anymore, frisk.” Your brow furrowed as you opened your mouth to argue, but he shook his head, and you let him speak. “i made a promise to myself that i would protect you. we took this long to find each other—i’m not losing you just yet.”

You sighed again after a moment, breaking your locked gazes. “I guess there’s no use in arguing about it now, at least.”

“that’s the spirit,” Sans said, flashing a smile at you before tugging you into a soft kiss. He pulled away and took your hand once more, leading you into a grand hallway. You felt a hush fall over you, stifling your minor frustration and worry. The hallway was lit by a full wall of stained-glass windows, each bearing the same crest in their panes. Sunlight streamed across gold and orange tiles and tall white columns, with nothing else in the way of ornamentation. It appeared largely untouched, despite the rioting that had apparently rocked the Underground’s foundations. It was oppressively quiet, with even your footsteps muffled, and it sent a chill down your spine to walk through, despite holding Sans’s hand.

“hate this place,” Sans said, his voice barely above a whisper. You looked over at him, but his face was turned away, to the windows. He seemed to be talking to himself. You found yourself having to take long strides to keep up with his pace through the hallway. When you stepped through the doorway into the next hall, he seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, though you couldn’t exactly understand why, considering the state of it. 

From floor to ceiling, with only a narrow tunnel cut through the middle, hung vines of all types, growing from the cracks in the mortar. Thin, leafy tendrils wrapped themselves around thicker, thorny roots, all of them buried deep in the broken walls. You could feel a menace in this hall—something dark and angry radiating from deeper within. You nervously let Sans guide you through them, careful not to cut yourself too badly on the thorns all around. You were certainly glad to have your boots on, now.

As you approached a thickly tangled mass of vines with what appeared to be a large runed door behind them, you shivered with the physical presence of power. There was some heavy magic in place, and you weren’t at all comfortable being near it. You thought you could hear your name being whispered from behind the door. The magic seemed to reach out to you. It felt like it wanted to grab you and bring it into its folds and devour you whole.

It felt…alive.

“well. this is it. the king is just past here.”

You didn’t want to take your eyes off the door, so you didn’t turn to Sans as you said, “So. What’s the plan?”

“top priority is keeping you safe,” he began. “the last thing we want is your SOUL getting into the wrong hands. i have no idea what we’re going to find once we open this door, but i’m pretty sure it’s not going to be good, either way. asgore had six human SOULs in there with him when he sealed himself off. we’re pretty sure he’s absorbed at least one.”

You glanced quickly over at him to see him studying the door with an amused, but pensive face. “if we’re really lucky, and for some reason he hasn’t absorbed _all_ of them, then i can handle him myself.” He shook his head slightly. “but if we aren’t so lucky, and he has…then i might need your help.”

You turned to him fully, then, eyebrows raised. “Whoah, what?” At his sheepish smile, you held your hands up. “Sans, no, I can’t fight the _king of all monsters_.”

“why not?” he asked, shrugging. “you fought me.”

“That was different!” you exclaimed, stepping further away from the door with disgust as you felt a tendril of magic flutter across your face. “And I still lost that fight!”

“you wouldn’t have, if you really wanted to win.”

You made a sound of frustration as you heard your name whispered louder from behind the door. It sounded desperate. “Sans, I thought I was going to be a _pawn_ in this fight, not an actual player.”

“well, hopefully you won’t have to be,” he said, one of his hands palm-up. “i do have some tricks up my sleeves, but if worst comes to worst, i’m going to need you to use _your_ tricks.”

“I don’t _have_ any tricks,” you retorted.

“you do,” he said, taking your hand with one of his as he rolled up his sleeve. “you just don’t have the right tools to use them, at the moment. but with me in there with you…you have everything you need.” He smiled. “that’s why it’s a much better plan to keep you alive. if i absorbed your SOUL and tried to fight asgore, there would be nothing stopping him from crushing me to dust and taking it. but with your natural determination, and this,” he gestured to his runes, “as a bonus, he won’t stand a chance.”

“What do your tattoos have to do with fighting the king?” you asked, frowning.

Sans shook his head, his smile turning sad. “you know they aren’t just tattoos. i’ve seen you looking at them; i know you know what they are.”

“No, I—I don’t—I mean, they’re _familiar_ —” you said, your eyes on the runes burned on his bones.

“that’s probably because i got them from your sister,” he said, and your eyes snapped back to his, your gaze severe. “when she fell…she had a notebook on her. small, bound in weird red leather? it had all this stuff written inside—in these runes.”

Your memory sparked, and you had to look away at the reminder, guilt flooding your heart. How could you forget? It had been your parents’ before the war, but when you’d gotten the news about the fires ripping through the city, your sister had specifically gone to retrieve the notebook from your childhood home. You remember marvelling at the sight of the undamaged leather, despite the state of the rest of the house, including your parents’ bodies. When you’d both pored over it days later, you hadn’t been able to read the strange runes, and so you’d just let it go when it became clear that survival was more important than anything that could be written inside. But your sister had studied it religiously, always carrying it with her, writing notes inside late at night. You’d never looked to see what she was writing; you’d respected her privacy too much for that.

The last time you remembered seeing it had been the night you’d tried to leave the village. Your sister had risked everything to go retrieve it from the elder’s home, where it had been stashed after being confiscated years earlier. You wondered now, knowing what you knew about the village and its elder, if that had been the real reason you’d been chased down like dogs.

“Do you—do you have it on you?” you asked, trying not to sound desperate. If you could hold onto something that your sister had loved so dearly, before you had to face down death, then you might not be so scared.

But Sans was shaking his head, your heart sinking back down to the pit of your hollow stomach. The whisper came again from behind the door—urgent, needy. You gritted your teeth. You’d always hated dark magic. It was so…clingy. It wrapped itself around your body and stuck to your soul like tar, always feeling as though it would drag you to hell at any moment.

Well, too bad, you thought at the magic. You were already there.

“i left it with papyrus, just in case. he knows which ones to use if everything goes shitty.” You remembered the same runes etched along Papyrus’s hand, glowing in a way that seemed painful for him as he used his magic. “see? i told you i had a plan.”

“You have a _bad_ plan,” you sassed absently, pondering on the fact that your sister had been studying magic all those years, without ever letting you know. What had she been trying to do? Had she actually been practicing magic without your knowledge, or was it purely study? Did this mean your parents had been magicians, too? How had you not known?

Sans threw you an unamused smile. “again, you flatter me with your confidence in my skills.”

“No problem,” you said, skidding back from the door as the dark magic made a bid for your chest, its incorporeal tendrils reaching out to where your soul was hidden. “So can we just get on with this? I’m getting a little hounded, here, if you can’t tell.”

Sans watched with fascination, his eyes narrowed slightly. “it sure is desperate, isn’t it? huh. never seen it do that before.” He took your hand again. “guess it wants you to break the seal.”

“Ugh!” you cried, resisting his tug at your hand as he tried to pull you closer to the runes. “No, I’m not touching that shit, Sans. It’s gross magic. You do it.”

“putting aside the fact that even if i wanted to, i couldn’t, since i’ve already tried before—don’t you think you’re being a little squeamish? you’re not gonna handle what comes next very well, if something like this grosses you out.” He was speaking to you in a way that was obviously meant to bring out the defiant streak in you, but even though you felt yourself immediately rise to the bait, you still really, really didn’t want to touch that door.

You glared half-heartedly at Sans’s knowing grin, before clenching your jaw tight and growling, “Fine. What do I do?”

“no idea. try touching the runes while holding my hand.”

You did so, but even as your hand sank against the disgusting dark magic, the touch of it feeling slightly of weak acid, the door didn’t open. You raised your eyebrows at Sans, yanking your hand back through the murk. You didn’t want to touch it any longer than strictly necessary. It felt as though it was seeping through your pores.

“try using your magic.”

You blinked at him. What good would that do? But the look in his eyes told you he had a better idea of what he was doing than you did. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. The dark magic crawling lovingly over your shoulders and down your back was distracting, but you managed to find the spark that you called on for your fire. As soon as you did, it burst from your hand in a way you’d never felt before—fast, angry, and powerful. It struck the large rune at the centre of the door and fanned out, hungrily devouring the vines and sending cracks through the other minor runes. You didn’t even get time to back away before the door crumbled, rocks tumbling into the dark room before you.

Sans came forward, standing in front of you protectively as you both peered inside. You strained your eyes to see anything, but the room was so dark from the wall-to-wall vines hanging all through, that you couldn’t make out much. You could feel the dark magic positively purring as you took a tentative step inside, your hand firmly clasped in Sans’s. It rolled over your body like a cat rubbing itself on its master, and you shuddered at the tendrils licking against your skin. It tugged you closer to the centre of the room, where you could see a large, lumpy shape looming.

You realised it was breathing at the same time as you noticed the crown sitting atop its head.

The king.

He was big—very big—with wide, hunched shoulders, and sharp-looking horns curling from his furry head. His beard was long and ragged, flowing down over the golden flowers that sprouted from the vines tangled around his limbs and chest. His eyes were closed, though his hands still gripped a red trident that was settled across his lap, so he couldn’t be sleeping. He looked as though he hadn’t moved in years.

You thought that was probably the truth.

Sans’s hand tightened on yours, and you got a strange feeling of familiarity at the sight of the beast-like monarch. It took you another few tense moments to realise it was because he looked just like Toriel. Your brain made connections between that and what you’d been told and came to the conclusion that she had been the queen that had left years ago. That explained a lot about her, to be honest. The graceful way she held herself, the reluctance she had for Sans’s plan, even the standoffishness about her.

You thought you might have trouble trusting people if you had lost your husband to the madness of your subjects.

You squeezed Sans’s hand back as you both took one final step closer. You now stood side-by-side, less than a body’s length away from the king, and your heart was racing with fear. If he wanted to, he could spear you through the heart with that trident of his, with ease. You thanked whatever deities you’d heard of that he didn’t seem to be aware of you.

Then he looked up, and your heart stopped.

His eyes were clouded white, seemingly blind to you and Sans, though he looked right at you. His mouth dropped open, slack and loose, rivulets of drool slipping from his jaw. You trembled as his body began to twitch and writhe, terror lancing through you. You wanted nothing more than to run back out of the room and hide in the home above. Sans didn’t seem fazed, however.

“asgore. it’s been a while, huh?”

The twitching horror dropped his trident in his flurry to stand to his feet, his face shifting expressions maddeningly as he took a lumbering step to you. Wide smile, stretched from ear to ear—terror, jaw working with a silent scream—heartache, eyes closing tight. You recoiled, almost dropping Sans’s hand in your haste to retreat. Sans fell back a step with you, though he still didn’t appear to be afraid.

“i guess this means you’ve absorbed the SOULs, then,” Sans said almost conversationally, though his voice was full of regret.

The king stretched an arm out to the both of you before stumbling forward, hunching over himself and giving an unearthly moan. Your skin prickled with goosebumps at the sound, and your breath caught with fear. The smell of dark magic wafted all around you, sour and dead.

“i really hoped you’d just be in here, just taking care of your garden, like usual. like you did when everything was—was good.”

You were surprised to hear how much Sans’s voice wavered. You glanced over at him, but his face was still neutral, though his eyes might have been slightly brighter than usual.

The king made a sound like a sob.

“because that would have been so much easier.”

The king wailed, his head in his hands, still hunched as he took a step closer.

“i don’t want to hurt you.”

The king was tearing at his hair, his legs trembling as he took another step.

“but i don’t have a choice.”

The king’s tongue lolled from his open jaw, thick and swollen and bloody, as though he had bitten it in a frenzy.

“you did a good job, asgore.”

The king looked you dead in the eyes as tears rolled down his cheeks, his hands grasping the air in front of you. 

“you kept the SOULs safe.”

Your back hit the thorn-covered wall—there was nowhere left to retreat.

“but it’s time to rest now.”

The king’s throat crackled and a deep, ragged voice gargled the word, “rrrreeeessst…”

“that’s right, buddy. we’ve got it from here.”

The king seemed to be struggling with himself, throwing his own body backwards. He stumbled away only to reach for you again, squealing madly.“see ya around, pal.”

Just as the king seemed to lose control of himself again, Sans’s runes flared to life one at a time, glowing bright through his chest and bathing the room in a bluish-purple light. You thought you could hear deep, dark whispers in your mind. The air crackled with sudden pressure, and you gasped with discomfort. You felt your power press against your skin, radiating from your bones.

Sans held out his left hand, his left eye sparking wildly, the cyan-and-yellow lights dancing in the darkness. The king lunged for you just as Sans fisted his hand tight, and with a hellish roar Asgore was thrown to his knees, his paw-like hand clutched to his chest. A great shiver ran through his body as he gave a choking gasp, looking up into Sans’s face.

A sound like flesh ripping from bone echoed through the room, and as you watched with horror, seven heart shapes burst from Asgore’s back, wriggling in the air above him.

Asgore’s eyes cleared.

Tears leaked from their edges.

He smiled—

“Thank…you…”

—and crumbled to dust, his face the last to drift silently to the earthen floor.

Sans was silent for only a moment before he snapped, “the grey SOUL—take it!”

You startled, your mouth agape. He had never spoken to you like that before, and it got his urgency across to you. You leaped on the quivering grey soul without hesitation, your hands wrapping around it tenderly. As soon as you touched it, it sank into your skin, grey streaks of light coursing through your hands and up to your chest, stopping over where your own soul was hidden. You felt a weight settle inside you, and with no warning other than that, you suddenly saw through someone else’s eyes.

_You looked up at a huge furry monster smiling down at you, ruffling your hair and saying how proud you made him. You were cuddled against another monster, your eyes closed, their warmth and soft voice lulling you to sleep. You saw the first time you summoned a fully-formed bullet pattern, the pride in your strength causing your chest to puff out._

_You looked on in envy as someone danced with the girl you liked, her beautiful white hair swaying as they spun. You knelt down and picked a flower, holding it out to the same girl, but now with much longer hair. You knelt down again, holding the woman’s hand as you gazed into her eyes, your heart swelling as she nodded and laughed._

_You turned over in bed, lazily curling your hand over your wife’s belly, smiling when you felt a small kick in response. You held your son in your arms, singing to him as your father once had to you. You saw his pride at his own bullet patterns, his strength shocking you all._

_You saw the solemn faces of your advisors, as they told you of the overpopulation. The dwindling resources. The growing unrest. You felt your uncertainty at how to save your people. You watched your wife’s face twist with barely restrained fear as you told her she had to take your son and leave the city, as it was becoming unsafe for everyone._

_You felt your own SOUL constrict with fear._

_For your family, for your friends, for all of Underground._

_You watched with a numb SOUL as the messenger cried of how a human had fallen. Of how their SOUL was being transported to the city. Of the madness it caused in the monsters along the way. Of how the transporters were struggling to reach you through the rioting._

_Of…how your son had fallen to the bloodlust of the mobs._

_Without another shift, you heard the doors to the throne room slam open once more, two skeletons standing in the doorway with wild expressions. The SOUL. The monsters crashing into the walls of the castle, screaming for the SOULs. The instant decision you made, roaring to the skeletons to leave. The SOULs entering you, their strength and determination tearing at your body. An explosion of power._

_Then nothing but pain, and voices wailing for you to use their power—DESTRUCTION—VENGEANCE—JUSTICE—COMPASSION—PROTECTION—MERCY._

_But you couldn’t._

_You had to be strong._

_For everyone._

_You were the king._

Finally you came back to yourself, your eyes heavy with unshed tears. You hurriedly dashed them away when you realised Sans was deathly quiet as he faced away from you. You saw that the other SOULs were missing, and with a soft sniffle, you asked,

“Where are the others?”

Sans’s head lowered, and he held a hand to his chest. You understood: he had absorbed them, just as you had the king. Did that mean he could see—? “Sans, is—is my sister—?”

Sans shuddered, his bones clacking together loudly. “yeah. yeah, she’s here.”

You exhaled a shaky breath, the heels of your palms pressing into your eyes. You whispered thanks to whoever was listening. You reached inside and touched the SOUL settled against yours, silently thanking him as well, for taking care of your sister. He shivered softly inside you, and you thought he could tell what you were feeling. You owed him more than he would have ever known. You wished you could have thanked him in person.

“Are you okay?” you asked Sans, exhaustion settling onto you like a physical weight. You dropped your hands and blinked your eyes. Sans just stood there, his head lowered and his body still shuddering in waves. Slightly alarmed, you closed the short distance between you and touched his shoulders gently. “Sans, are you okay?”

“they’re so heavy.”

His voice was soft and torn, and you squeezed his shoulders comfortingly. You didn’t know what to say to that, so you didn’t say anything.

You slid your arms around him from behind, holding your palms flat against his sternum and resting your cheek against the back of his skull. He quaked against you, his magic pulsing against yours like a beating heart. You weren’t sure how long you held him, then, but after a time, he brought his hands up to hold onto your arm, his bones rattling less and less. Finally he heaved a sigh and tilted his head back against your chest, looking up at you with a smile.

“Better now?”

“yup.”

“It’s okay if you’re not.”

Sans smiled wider, turning to face you. You noticed his runes making an audible crackling, and glanced down to see them pulsing slowly with many colours. You couldn’t help but stare. Sans laughed.

“you like it?”

You nodded, shrugging a shoulder. “This place could use a little mood lighting, after all the darkness that’s happened here.”

“couldn’t agree more.”

With a snap of his fingers, the thorns and vines cluttering the room disintegrated. Their green essence swirled together to the middle of the floor, where the king’s throne sat tall and imposing, shining bright. The essence settled to the ground there, sinking below the soil. There was a brief moment of stillness before stems burst from the ground, growing high and blooming into beautiful yellow flowers. You gasped with delight as the flower petals brushed against your legs, and you knelt to surround yourself in their sweet scent.

Golden flowers. They had been your favourite.

“you like it, then?”

With the sun now shining through the windows and the air clear of dark magic, you felt as though you could have made your home here. “I love it.”“then as soon as we take your village back from those psychotics, we’ll plant a whole field of them.”

You stood straight again, your heart pounding with anticipation. “Are you okay to go now?”

Sans nodded, his smile betraying his excitement. “no time like the present.”

“Lead the way, boss.’’

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH SHI-
> 
> Okay so yes. One more chapter. WE CAN DO THIS. WE CAN MAKE IT HAPPEN.
> 
> If I don't let myself get lost in my new story. P-please check it out if you...want to???
> 
> Also, I HAVE A TUMBLR. THERE'S NOTHING ON IT. COME SAY HI ANYWAY?
> 
> Fuck sake you'd think I'd have my shit together after all this time.
> 
> tellcosy.tumblr.com


	12. The Surface

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk and Sans take a moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't the end, you guuuuys! Okay, so I was working on this for way too long, and it's really late, and I'm SORRY but I still think it's better to split it up here. Ech, sorrysorrysorry.
> 
> So just...have this bit of slight fluffiness between the tsundere twins before the real end.
> 
> Enjoy!

 

 

The first thing Sans did after you stepped through the barrier was climb the hill to the edge of the plateau and turn his face to the sun.

And even though you hadn’t seen much of the sun yourself in the years you’d been incarcerated, you couldn’t help but watch his face with awe. His eyes were wide, and bright, even in the direct light. His jaw went softly slack, before he closed his eyes and smiled. You felt a stirring in your soul, and you held a hand to your chest. You were so happy you could be there to see his first moments out of that prison.

You couldn’t wait to see everyone else’s faces.

You slipped your hand in Sans’s and was pleased when he threaded his fingers through yours without hesitation. You both stood there for a while, you just marvelling at your sudden and unexpected freedom. It was beginning to truly dawn on you that you had actually lived. You weren’t going to be used as a sacrifice. Not now, not ever again.

And there was only one thing left to do before you could start thinking about actually… _living_.

Sans had promised to help you with that, though.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

Sans glanced over at you, and you thought you could understand the pain in them. Sometimes beauty hurt, deep in your heart. When you’d been hurting for so long, happiness could feel alien when it returned. Especially when it came at the moment you needed it most.

“you have no idea.”

You smiled wide, forgiving him for his dismissiveness. “I have _some_ idea.”

His eyes shrank for a moment before returning to their bright, wide eyed stare. He was grinning sheepishly. “heh, yeah, that’s right. sorry.”

You shrugged a shoulder, still smiling. “Hey, as someone very wise once said: don’t worry about it.”

Sans turned his eyes back to the sun with a chuckle. “just…you think i could have another minute?”

“No need to ask,” you said, moving behind him and folding your arms over his shoulders, leaning your head against them. You could feel a buzz against your skin where you touched the vertebrae of his neck, and you hummed. You wondered if that was because of his runes, and after thinking about it for a while, you asked him.

“hm?” He glanced over at you, his face inches from yours. “oh, you mean this?” A wave of tingles went through your arm, and you shivered, nodding against him. “it’s probably the quickest explanation to say it’s the runes, yeah.”

“What’s the long explanation?”

Sans turned fully, and you tried to step back, but he pulled you close, slipping an arm around your waist and touching his fingertips to your cheek. You felt a blush bloom underneath them. He was looking up at you with a soft smile and partly-lidded eyes, and you didn’t know how to react. Your heart did a painful thump at the look on his face.

Then a shock of power ran through you, and your teeth chattered, goosebumps raising along your whole body.

Sans smirked. “come on, let’s walk and talk.” He took your hand and you let yourself be led away from the precipice, though you frowned softly at the back of his skull.

“Are you sure? We don’t have to go just yet, if you want more time,” you said, skipping slightly to draw level with him as he headed in the direction of the village. You’d told him where it was before you’d left Underground, thinking that it would be good to know just in case you got separated somehow. You were happy to just let him lead, though.

“nah, i’m good,” he said, holding your hand tight as you both skidded down a slight incline. Rocks and pebbles skittered ahead of you, tumbling to the mossy ground below. “it’ll be there tomorrow, too.” He turned a wide, bright smile to you, and your heart clenched again. You found yourself smiling back, slightly breathless.

“You think the sun is beautiful? Just wait until the stars come out,” you huffed, excited at the idea of being there for his first time seeing the blanket of stars visible from the mountain-top. It had always made you dizzy, staring into the night sky.

“you like ‘em too, huh?”

You peered over at him as you both hopped down a small ledge. You were getting near the forest edge now.

“You mean you’ve…seen them before?”

Sans gave a small, bitter chuckle. “a long time ago. but yeah.”

“Oh.”

You tried to wrap your head around that bit of information. Did he mean to say that he had been around since…since before the monsters were trapped?

“why?” he asked, giving you a sidelong glance. “does it bother you that i have?”

You blinked, coming back to the conversation with a bit of confusion as you briefly thought he’d been responding to your thoughts instead of your words. You shook your head. “No, of course not. I just thought I might be lucky enough to be there for your first time.”

A smirk, a quick look, and you already knew what he was going to say before he said it. “don’t you think you’ve had enough of my first times, sweetheart?”

You snorted. “Are you seriously trying to say that I was your first?” You gave him a sceptical look.

“would you believe me if i said yes?”

You just raised your eyebrows.

A laugh burst from him. “okay, okay. first human, though.”

“Well that’s a relief, considering that all the others were _dead_ ,” you retorted with a toothy grin. “I mean, I know you like ‘em submissive, but…” you trailed off suggestively.

“hey, just ‘cause i’m a skeleton doesn’t mean i’m a necrophiliac.” He shot you another quick, wry look. “that’s more your thing, isn’t it?”

When you cracked up with laughter, Sans stopped dead in his tracks, his eye sockets wide. You turned to see what was wrong, but calmed at the smile teasing the corners of his mouth. He looked down towards his chest, holding a hand to it before looking back up at you.

When you raised an eyebrow, he gave you a wink and said,

“knock, knock.”

You groaned with disbelief. Oh, God, he didn’t tell _knock-knock_ jokes too, did he? Who was this guy—someone’s dad? “Who’s there?” you answered reluctantly, still smiling.

“anita.”

You gave a little laugh, already shaking your head. You knew this one. “Anita who?”

“anita hear that beautiful laugh again.”

You gaped at him for a moment before giving a loud, surprised laugh. Well, you hadn’t expected him to say that at all. Your cheeks were slightly warm as you said, “Is there a reason you’re being so lame, yet charming?”

Sans chuckled softly, tapping his sternum. “someone in here sure loves hearing your laugh.” He winked again. “wonder who that could be.”

Your breath caught, and your hands drew in close to your body unconsciously. “She can—she can _hear_ me?”

Sans stepped close to you, taking your hands gently and placing them on his chest. You could feel the power thrumming within. “why don’t you ask her yourself?” he said, his deep voice calming your racing heart.

You took a deep breath, your gaze stuck on the soft rainbow glow emanating from underneath Sans’s shirt. 

“I…”

You absentmindedly traced the lines of his bones as you thought about how you could possibly make contact with your sister after so long. What could you say to her? How could you possibly tell her how…

…how _sorry_ you were…

…how much you _missed_ her…

…how you would give _anything_ to see her smile again…

“I just want to say…”

You felt something swell deep within your soul, and you gritted your teeth against the sudden burning behind your eyes. Oh, God, you couldn’t do this. You couldn’t find the words—couldn’t string them together to form sentences good enough for her. You wanted to ask her if she was in pain, if she was happy, if she could tell that _you_ were happy now. But you couldn’t.

Trembling with emotion, you made to step back from Sans, but he caught your hands and held them, the lights of his eyes burning into your vision. He was all you could see, then. The smooth lines of his skull, the perfectly imperfect shape of his eye sockets, the casual tilt of his mouth, teeth always bared in a devil-may-care smile, the deep hollows underneath his eyes that revealed the strength of his true feelings. In his face, you saw a man who had lived through too much, who had been forced to take too much on his shoulders for the sake of others. In his smile, you saw that he was willing to take more, if it would make his loved ones happy.

You knew then that you always wanted to be there with him to help carry that weight.

“I…I can’t.”

Sans just held your hands in his, and gave you a sympathetic smile. “she knows.”

You shook your head and looked away, heart sinking. “Am I stupid for not taking my chance to talk to her?” you whispered, shame creeping into your voice.

You saw him shrug a shoulder from the corner of your eye, and you turned back to see his grin take on a more impish look. “i don’t think so, but she’s having some pretty sassy feelings. slightly smug.”

You sniffled wetly, reaching up to dash away the few tears that had managed to form. “Tell her to shut her incorporeal mouth,” you chuckled weakly. Your lips twisted in a sad, nostalgic smile. “She was always telling me I was horrible at communicating my feelings.”

“oh, are you? i wouldn’t know—i’ve only had clear and open intentions from you since we met.” Sans said, smirking at his own joke.

You pushed him away playfully, turning and heading into the forest proper as he stumbled, laughing. “Well, I hope you two are very happy with each other, because _I’m_ going to go finish the job we set out on.” 

The sound of leaves crunching underfoot approached, and Sans’s hand slipped back into yours. You squeezed it to let him know you weren’t actually upset, and he squeezed back. Another wave of tingles ran through your body. You glanced at him to see him still grinning madly, obviously waiting for you to look over.

“hey, i thought you’d be happy that i like your sister. after all, then we’d have even more in common.” You were about to ask him what he was talking about, when he continued with, “considering how much _you_ liked my brother.”

You sputtered and laughed against your better judgement, swatting at Sans and missing as he dodged you. You narrowed your eyes, watching him as he gave great big belly laughs, and feeling struck with inspiration, you said, “Sans, I know you’re just _ribbing_ me, but please _patella_ me you aren’t serious about liking my sister. Because if it’s not a _fibula_ , I’ll have to be quite _sternum_ with you.”

Sans’s laughter dropped away suddenly, his mouth dropping open as he stood up straight. His eyes were bright as he stared into yours with something akin to awe. You shuffled nervously under his gaze before he said, “that was…” He seemed to catch himself, coughing and looking away with two soft spots of colour rising to his cheekbones. He fiddled in his pockets and drew out a cigarette, which you immediately moved to light, without being asked. He grinned his thanks and took a drag, looking much cooler than before. You both continued walking as he said in a voice that sounded as though he was trying very hard to be suave, “i mean, those were pretty good, but technically sloppy. you should try thinking of some that aren’t about skeletons.”

You chuckled silently. “Oh yeah? Why’s that? Is it ’cause I’m not a skeleton?”

Sans shrugged casually, smoke curling from his mouth. “i mean, there are so many other things you could be punny about.”

“Hey, why should I miss out on the skeleton jokes? I have one in me, too, you know.” You gave him a haughty look.

His eyes flashed as you brushed up against him, and he took your hand, whispering, “well, in that case, you’re particularly entitled to tell those puns.” Your eyelids lowered slightly at his tone, and he pulled you down into a soft, sweet kiss, his magic flickering against your lips like a lover’s tongue. Just as your heart throbbed once more, and another wave of particularly strong tingles ran through you, Sans pulled away. He was smiling, obviously pleased with himself. “because now you’ve had two skeletons in you.”

You tried not to laugh, you really did. It was such a bad joke, and you could see it coming, but still. You were helpless with giggles, dropping your forehead onto Sans’s shoulder and rocking your head side-to-side. “Bad. Bad skeleton man.”

His hand snaked around you faster than you could react, gripping your bottom hard. You smiled with satisfaction as he murmured against your ear, pulling your body flush against his, “not yet, i’m not. that’ll come later, kitten.”

A powerful, almost painful tug came from behind your ribcage, and you nuzzled against Sans’s jaw and vertebrae, kissing them softly as you whispered, “I’ll hold you to that.” With one last gentle kiss that elicited a shivering sigh from Sans, you pulled away with regret. You would love to just keep talking, and enjoying the feeling of being free—and you knew Sans would, as well, if his playfulness was any indication—but you both had to stay focused. You weren’t exactly… _worried_ …about punishing the villagers, but doubt crept into your heart the more you thought about it.

And you couldn’t let that happen. 

You wanted— _needed_ —to make them pay for what they’d done, and would continue to do if they were allowed to live. You couldn’t let this happen to anyone else, ever again. You would not turn away from the responsibility simply because you were feeling the lure of happiness.

Happiness always came at a price, and if the price was carrying the burden of being the village’s judge, then you would put aside your doubts. 

You were not going to fail.

Sans had obviously felt your change in mood, as he was wearing a much more solemn expression when you looked back into his eyes. You slipped your hand back in his and you both set off without a word, travelling for several minutes without any of the light-hearted conversation from only just before. You felt a little sad for its absence, but it was probably better this way. You needed to talk to him about what his plan was, and if you both kept getting distracted, then you’d be at the village with no clear idea of how you would survive the onslaught.

You cleared your throat, and Sans squeezed your hand to let you know he was listening. “So, uh…sorry to be kind of a killjoy, but there _is_ a pressing matter still waiting to possibly ruin our future nice times.” You glanced over, your hair falling forward over your shoulder as you tilted your head curiously. “Any idea of a plan for this? Or are you just gonna work on the same as before?”

Sans shoved his free hand deep in his pocket as he kicked at a rock on the ground. “prob’ly just the same.”

You raised your eyebrows with slight alarm. “ _Probably_? You haven’t actually thought about it?”

Sans grinned sheepishly. “what can i say? i’m not really that worried about fighting humans.”

“Wh—Sans! If you thought _I_ could kill you, then you should definitely be worried about at least _some_ of those humans,” you scolded, flabbergasted.

“yeah— _you_ could have killed me. and any of the humans who these,” he pointed to his chest, “belonged to, could have killed me. but not every human is created equal.”

Your first reaction was to simply think how true that statement was, but then you drew your eyebrows together. “So what’s the difference?”

Sans glanced up at you with a sly grin, his eyes darkening. “Determination.”

You blinked at the clear, concise way he’d spoken the word. “That’s it? You’re not afraid of being hurt because you don’t think most humans _want_ it enough?”

Sans laughed, then, a deep, amused laugh. It wasn’t mocking at all, though, so you didn’t feel put upon. “something like that,” he said, nodding. He gave your hand a gentle tug. “but mostly i’m not worried because _you’re_ here.”

You were definitely confused at that. “Sans, I thought you understood what I meant when I told you before that they—you know.” That they had _killed_ you, you couldn’t bring yourself to say. You had never known how you had survived the cut to your throat, but you hadn’t particularly cared back then, and you still didn’t. You’d never wanted to look a gift horse in the mouth, especially when it was so rare as another chance at life.

You fingered your neck for where the scar should be, just as it was on your sister’s body, down below your feet, but that was simply another mystery. You had no scar. Just the memory of the slice of the knife, spilling your lifeblood onto the forest floor. The feeling of failure, the crying of injustice in your heart. Your tears had spilled down your cheeks and mingled with your blood as your world had tilted into darkness. 

But then you’d woken up.

And you had gotten your taste for vengeance.

“i know what you were saying,” Sans said in a quiet, tense voice, before lifting his head from its bowed position, a wide grimacing smile straining his face. “and i know you think that means you aren’t strong enough to fight them. but that was then. and this is now. and now _i’m_ here.” He held up your interlocked hands, and the sight of them sent another soft wave of goosebumps across your arms. “you feel those, don’t you? i know you do, sweetheart, because i feel them too. you wanted to know what the long explanation about it was, but it’s probably not a good time to get into _that_ side of it. i’ll just say it in another way: your magic and my magic, they, uh…they click.”

You thought about his brief speech for a few moments. “Okay, that makes sense, I guess, but what do the runes have to do with that?” you asked, ducking underneath a leafy branch that Sans held aside for you.

“mostly, they just, uh…magnify the effect.”

Your mind provided you with the memory of producing a fireball when you’d only expected a match-like flame. Of the engulfing flames that had consumed the thick, dark magic on the door before Asgore. Both times, you had been touching Sans. Was he saying that he—and the runes—were acting like some kind of _magician’s_ _staff_ for you?

If that were true, why had it not worked before only recently?

You realised you had spoken the thought out loud when Sans looked sidelong away from you, a hand on the back of his skull and soft colour at his cheeks again. “that’s, uh, part of the long explanation that’s probably better to talk about _after_ we do this.”

You stared openly at his embarrassed expression before he drew up, tugging on your hand to catch your attention. You stopped in your tracks, realising you had nearly walked off the edge of a steep drop. You took a few steps back out of surprise before your mind recognised the area, and your gorge rose.

You were standing on the overhang of the cave that housed the entrance of Underground.

Just below your feet lay your prison.

_You could see the village_.

You shuddered silently, staring down at the ground with something akin to panic. You hadn’t been paying attention to where you were in the forest. You hadn’t been prepared to be so close to the village—to be so close to where you’d been threatened, beaten,  tortured, spat on, kicked, mocked, screamed at, molested— _killed_.

You took another step back, your hand falling away from Sans’s.

Sans reached out to you, and you looked over at him with wide eyes. You felt like a mistreated animal, wild and full of fear for the abuse you were sure was to come. When you saw his soft, understanding eyes, you shook yourself, another shudder rolling through you. “I’m fine,” you croaked. “I’m okay.”

He shook his head, holding his arms out wide for you without a word. You bit your lip with hesitation.

“you aren’t weak if you take comfort in others.”

You bit your lip harder and after another moment, you fell into his arms, burying your face against him. You breathed in his scent deeply, and it comforted you like nothing else could. You trembled in the fold of his embrace for what felt like forever, just taking your time to come to terms with everything. You were back at the village. They had hurt you. They had hurt your sister. But they weren’t going to anymore. 

They weren’t going to hurt anyone anymore.

You were going to show them that they hadn’t destroyed you. You were not defeated. You were not broken. You would never be, not by the likes of them. You had so much inside you, holding you together, that they would never understand.

Strength.

Dedication.

Friendship.

Family.

Sacrifice.

Love…

…and DETERMINATION.

You leaned back, looking down into Sans’s deep, softly lit eyes.

“Thank you.”

“don’t worry about it.”

You smiled, and he smiled back.

You turned to face the village once more, inhaling deeply and holding it before exhaling slowly, counting the heartbeats it took. You could do this. You could face your demons. You could—

You heard Sans curse under his breath, and your thoughts cut off abruptly as you looked to see what had caught his attention.

Oh.

A _child_.

Oh, no.

Your heart sank.

There was a small child, no older than ten, who was staring up at the two of you from the tree line down below, their mouth agape and eyes wide with shock. They were slowly backing away at the sight of you, their gaze barely flickering over to Sans. On instinct, you reached a hand palm-out in supplication, opening your mouth to tell them to not be scared. The last thing you wanted was to frighten a _child_. But before you could utter a single word, they had made a loud squeaking sound and bolted back into the woods, heading in the direction of the village.

“ _Fuck_ ,” was all you could manage as you watched them retreat.

Sans shoved his hands deep in the pockets of his trousers, his chin tucking in close to his chest. A look that resembled regret flashed across his face, and you sighed, running a hand through your hair. 

“Fuck,” you repeated.

Sans gave a weak laugh at that.

You ran both hands through your hair, crouching down and tucking your arms against your stomach. God, that had shaken you. Your gut was clenching with unease. You had been fully prepared to go into the village and kill every single one of them. To just—slaughter.

You had completely neglected to even think about the children you had _known_ that lived there. You absolutely could not bring yourself to murder a child in cold blood. Some of them had been cruel to you, true—repeating the same diatribe fed to them by their families. Most of them, though…they simply couldn’t understand why you were treated so differently. Their families had found shelter in the village from other, worse places, as well. 

You had known their parents, had spoken to them about the religion that tainted the sanctuary the village could have offered to everyone. They had simply hung their heads and told you that it was better to go along with the elder and have a place in a community than to face the alternative. They had looked so ashamed that you hadn’t been able to feel any anger towards them then. You thought on all you knew now, and all that had happened, and wondered if you could blame them _now_?

You found that you couldn’t.

You really wanted to. You wanted to think that you could look them in the eye and tell them it was their indifference to others’ pain that allowed people like the elder to gain control in the first place. To hurt anybody he liked, whenever he liked. You wanted to tell them that just because they were safe now didn’t mean that the elder wouldn’t change the rules. A coward like him would always find a “demon” to blame for his own failures.

Lucky for them, it just so happened that his last demon had returned with her own demon friends.

“Well,” you said after another moment, standing up straight once more and tossing your hair back. “There goes our element of surprise.”

Sans glanced over at you with lowered brow bones, his eye sockets wide. “you still wanna do this? even though there’s gonna be…” He gestured to where the child had retreated.

You gave a fierce, wide smile. “I don’t think it’s necessary to hurt _them_. But that doesn’t mean there isn’t someone who _very badly_ deserves everything coming to him.” You tucked your hands in your pockets, mirroring Sans’s pose and rocking forward on the balls of your feet.

Sans’s eyes went very bright at your words, then completely dark. He smiled wide. When he spoke, his voice rumbled all around you, as though the magic now crackling in the air between you carried it further.

“oh, i love it when you talk dirty.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't even pretend to know when the last chapter will come out.
> 
> Also, I had no idea how many AUs this resembles until I got on tumblr. So funny. I'd at least tag this mobtale if I knew more about it, but I'm worried to in case it's a lot more different than I thought. I dunno! You guys tell me. I'll do it if you think it's close enough to be considered one. Fun fact: it was actually thought up while looking at Underfell stuff. So there's that!
> 
> See you guys next time, or if you wanna come talk to me on tumblr, it's at tellcosy.tumblr.com -- I love talking to everyone, so don't be shy if you have any questions or comments or critique or just wanna be friends.


	13. The Elder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans carries out his style of justice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY SO THIS ISN'T THE END EITHER.
> 
> I really gotta stop saying it is when I don't know.
> 
> Anyway, this is a super short chapter because I just wanted to put SOMETHING out there for you guys, to let you know I'm still working on this. That it still hasn't been abandoned. I'm not going to say anything for certain, but as it's planned NOW, in order to leave room for--for any stupid stuff that happens or plot changes or whatever--there will likely be two more chapters. Short ones.
> 
> But yes. I have no idea if this will be satisfying chopped up as it is, or if it'll be meh. I'm sorry if it is. I'm trying, you guys. Kind of lost faith in the story.
> 
> <3

 

It only took a moment for you to point out the small cave where the elder did most of his work, spending his days and nights toiling over his dark magic. Sans asked if you were ready to do this. You agreed with a wicked smile, and he took your hand.

You stepped through his shortcut together, and you were back in the village, standing in the middle of the elder’s cave. The elder himself stood just in front of the both of you, his back turned as he hunched over his work bench, muttering under his breath as foul magic wafted from him. He was cloaked in long, stained grey robes, his yellowing-grey hair stringy and limp across his shoulders. You could see his long fingernails tapping away anxiously on the wooden bench, his ornately-carved bone staff clenched in his other hand.

“hey, there, pal—workin’ hard or hardly workin’?”

The elder shot upright at Sans’s smooth, sarcastic words, spinning to face you with bared teeth. You recoiled with horror—the man standing before you looked _nothing_ like the one you had known before. Even in the few days you’d been down in Underground, he had deteriorated rapidly. His skin was yellowed and hanging from his bones loosely, his eyes sunken in his face. The colour in his iris had almost fully deepened to black, and the whites of his eyes were lined with red splotches. His teeth were strangely stubby, his gums bloody. They looked almost as though he’d been grinding them down. Even the look he gave you was different. Where before, he had looked at you with a disgusted sort of pity, he now only looked…hungry.

A shudder ran through you, and your skin prickled with unease.

What had _happened_ here?

“Who are you?” the elder demanded, his normally weedy voice resonating in the tent. You flinched again as he took a step toward you, his staff thumping on the floor. “How did you get in here?”

“i’m a monster,” Sans said without missing a beat, gesturing loosely with a hand. He paused for effect, before smiling and saying, “and i’m a monster.”

“Monster?” the elder spat back, raising his staff. “Leave now—or I’ll throw you to the depths!”

Sans was silent for a second before he spluttered with laughter, looking over at you with his thumb cocked at the elder. “what’s with this guy? is he blind or something?”

You couldn’t take your eyes off of the haggard ghost of a man who stood trembling in front of you. “I—I think he _might_ be.”

Sans was about to respond just as the elder made a choked sound, now gripping his staff with both hands. You and Sans eyed him warily.

“You.”

Your stomach twisted at the recognition in his voice.

“ _How did you survive_?”

You shifted, holding your hands up in an imitation of Sans’s usual shrug. “I guess you could say your wish came true, Elder. I really _did_ find my fate in the demons down below.”

With a wet, rattling cough, the Elder suddenly shouted at the top of his lungs, “Guards!”

You heard a flurry of activity from outside the cave, voices calling back to the elder. You felt a rush of magic striking through your soul, but before you could do anything too hasty, Sans held his hand up and said,

“not today, buddy.”

From his hand shot a brilliant white light that raced around the perimeter of the cave, before a translucent, shimmering barrier burst out from the light. You looked to Sans to see what it had done, but then the guards arrived, slamming into the barrier when they tried to enter the cave. You stared open-mouthed, laughing breathily as they tried to beat down the magical seal on the room’s entrance. You could see them shouting, but there was no sound filtering through.

You turned back to the man in question, a toothy smile spreading across your face.

The elder was trapped.

Oh, this was good.

Sans chuckled at how pleased you were, tucking his hands back in his pockets and smirking at the elder. “Think it’s a bit rude of you to invite company to our private party without asking us first.” He took a slow, menacing step closer to the elder, who beat a hasty retreat, backing away until he was leaning against his workbench. He was clinging to his staff like it was his only lifeline, his eyes wide and rolling wildly, like a horse faced with a wolf.

Sans crooked his head to you, one eye winking as the other regarded you intensely. You could tell he was enjoying himself, and you were getting excited because of it. You could feel a sort of bloodlust building within you—a specific, pointed _rage_. You trembled at the sudden possibilities in front of you.

You could _destroy_ this man’s _existence_.

And you wouldn’t even feel sorry.

“what do you think, sweetheart?”

Your breath picked up at the softness of Sans’s voice juxtaposed with how sharp his eyes were as he watched you.

He was waiting for your permission.

“I think…” you began, taking a few steps forward until you were just behind Sans. You put your hand on his shoulder, your eyes on the trembling elder. “That it’s a real shame for someone like him to be walking around free and alive.” You gripped Sans’s shoulder to calm the fire building in you. “When _he_ took those basic rights from _MY SISTER AND ME_!” you roared the last words, your whole body shaking with emotion.

Sans put his hand over yours for a brief moment, turning his head to nuzzle against both of them. Then he looked back to the elder, who was trying to edge around the workbench, his hand reaching for a giant tome at the opposite end.

Without warning, Sans waved his hand and a sharpened blue bone slammed down from nowhere, piercing through the elder’s palm and pinning him to the table. His scream of agony warbled through the cave, causing you to flinch and feel a wave of satisfaction.

Sans shook his head, his hand still held lazily in the air, a lopsided grin on his face. You squeezed his shoulder once more before releasing him.

“i happen to agree,” Sans said slowly, before making a motion with his hand as if he was releasing a bird from his palm. Another shriek and a loud cracking sound resounded through the room, and you realised that the bone impaling the elder had grown in size. That snap had been the elder’s hand bones breaking further.

Sans puffed out a laugh, his left eye beginning to flicker dangerously with the colours of the souls inside him. The elder was crowing with pain, his other hand scrabbling at the bone as the fingers twitched uselessly. You felt a little sick, watching his eyes rolling in his head like a deer being hunted.

He didn’t even look human anymore.

“see, that’s what i love about people like you, buddy.”

Sans began slowly advancing on the elder, his smile wide across his face.

“you just don’t know when to QUIT.”

Sans raised his hand again, and the action was mimicked by the elder, who held his free hand up to shield his face, babbling nonsensically.

At least, it sounded nonsensical at first.

Then you started to recognise some of the words.

The fire of vengeance that had been burning in your soul was banked, suddenly. You were retreating, to a dark, dark place inside.

Those words…

…like black stains in the air…

They were from your childhood.

Your mother and father…

…and your sister.

Whispering long into the night.

Shadows spilling out from underneath closed doors.

The crackle and snap of fire.

Laughter.

Always laughter.

“see, the thing is…”

You were jolted back to the cave as Sans spoke. Another blue bone materialised out of the air and struck the elder’s other hand, arching to pin him fully to the workbench.

The scream that tore from his throat then was definitely not human.

Your stomach clenched and bile rose in your throat. Blood was seeping from the wounds, leaking away into grooves set into the wood. Your heart pounded fiercely as you watched it oozing sluggishly across the table, your eyes wide. The elder continued screaming and thrashing, his feet skidding against the earthen floor as he tried to retreat from Sans, who was now looming over the man.

You could smell black magic pooling in the air, thick and oily. You thought you could hear someone— _something_ —else laughing underneath the elder’s cries.

“if you weren’t so _dead-set_ on dying today, and you just asked me nicely to stop—well. it would make this a lot easier on both of us.”

Two more bones, both of them slamming into the elder’s wildly kicking feet.

He arched his back, thrashing as black bile spilled from his mouth with a gurgle. His eyes were wide and bugging out from their sockets. You had to swallow heavily to keep yourself from vomiting.

There was something deeply wrong.

The whispers and laughter grew, until the sound of them was like buzzing bees swarming in your skull.

They were shouting your name.

The blood spilled over the edge of the table and fell to the earth.

“because on days like this—when birds are singing…and flowers are blooming…filth like you should be _burning in hell_!”

One last bone, much larger than the previous ones appeared over Sans’s head, poised to strike the elder’s heart.

“ _Mercy_!” the elder choked out past the bubbling black bile. He was sightlessly staring straight at Sans, his nubby teeth bared as the foul liquid slipped between them. “ _Have mercy_!”

“heh. that’s the other thing i love about people like you, pal. you always think the good guy will be better than you. that we’ll give mercy whenever you ask.”

Sans’s eye flared even brighter.

“ _Y o u d o n ’ t d e s e r v e m e r c y_.”

“Sans,” you breathed, your heart racing with fear. “No.”

But he didn’t hear you.

You watched with terror as the bone impaled the elder straight through the heart.

There was a fierce, unearthly scream.

And then silence.

You were shaking as black magic pooled from the wound, falling to the earth and absorbing the blood that had spilled from the elder. The miasmic shadows writhed down through the soil, spreading toward the edges of the cave and climbing up the walls in spidery tendrils. It seemed to be—it looked like it was—

_Eating_ the magic.

You leapt away from the crawling black magic heading straight for you and Sans. You reached out and grabbed at Sans’s hand, pulling him close to you as you backed towards the exit of the cave.

“Sans, we have to go _now_. This is bad— _really bad_ ,” you stressed, your eyes flicking across the rapidly growing darkness. It was working its way around to where you stood, and you were sweating nervously as it edged ever closer.

“frisk, no, we have to get his SOUL. that’s what we came here for!” Sans gestured at the elder’s body, which was still spilling out bile. Your skin crawled at the sight. 

You shook your head, but said, “Fine, do it fast though, so we can zip back out of here! I have a really bad feeling about this.” You glanced behind you to see the guards were smiling now, watching as you were slowly being overtaken by the black magic. Your heart trembled in fear. Had they known this would happen? “A really _bad_ feeling.”

“don’t worry, doll, we’ll be done here in a second.” Sans held out a hand, already glowing with blue magic. “usually the soul comes out as soon as combat is started, so I don’t know why it hasn’t with this guy,” he mumbled, seemingly to himself. With a look of concentration, he made a pulling motion, and something burst from within the elder’s chest, hovering over his body. Both of you reeled back at the sight. It was a heart-shape, alright, but where yours had been brilliant and beautiful, the elder’s was hollow, broken, and spilling out the bile from the cracks.

“Is that—have you ever seen _that_ before?” you asked, eyes wide. 

“no,” Sans responded, his voice just as horrified as yours. “i—i wondered why i couldn’t see his soul. but—but i didn’t think it would be like— _this_. this doesn’t even look like a SOUL anymore.”

“Sans,” you began in a whisper, your back hitting the barrier. “What do we do?”

“i—” Sans stopped, the lights in his eyes going from the elder’s body to the rapidly disintegrating barrier. “i don’t know. we could shortcut back to the barrier, but they might follow us. we can’t let these humans go down there. they’d slaughter everyone.” Sans glanced up at you, his eyes apologetic. “i think we’re going to have to fight, sweetheart. we need a SOUL.”

You nodded tersely. You had wanted to _try_ the pacifist’s option when it came to the villagers, considering they had most likely been tricked or coerced into their beliefs. But if it came between killing  humans or putting the monsters in danger…

Well, that wasn’t really an option, was it?

“Got it, Boss.”

Sans gave you a small smile, taking your hand in his and holding it up to his mouth, giving you a sparking kiss while staring intently in your eyes. “stay close to me. don’t be reckless. and don’t _ever_ let go.”

You smiled back at him, seeing the barrier crumbling out of the corner of your eye.

“As if I would ever dream of it.”

As you leaned down for a kiss, pressing your lips softly against his mouth, the barrier fell away.

And the real battle began.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me over at tellcosy.tumblr.com where you can POKE ME WITH A STICK


	14. The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk lets go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, guys. The end! I'm sorry it took way, WAY too long. Thank you so, so much to anybody who stuck around through all this weirdness and delay. I love every single one of you.
> 
> <3

 

The first strike came from a man who looked far too young to be a guard. 

He thrust a knife directly at Sans’s skull. Before you could blink, the man was screaming and stumbling away, flailing as his entire body rose in flames. The screams stopped the second he fell to the ground outside. His orange soul fluttered weakly from his body before shattering.

The other men fell back in horror as you looked between them, and that was when you realised that you had been the one to kill him.

You dropped the hand that you hadn’t even meant to raise.

Oh. So that was what using your magic was like when you had a monster soul inside you.

Or maybe it was just _Asgore’s_ soul.

You looked down to Sans, and saw that his eyes were twinkling with awe.

You cracked a roguish smile.

The men regained their senses, and came flooding in the tight entryway, ignoring the black, tar-like magic winging out from the cave.

They fell like wheat to the scythe, their bodies speared by sharp blue bones and already blackened by your fire. Seven souls rose into the air, pulsing softly with many colours.

None of them survived longer than a few moments.

Sans cursed softly next to you, but you just squeezed his hand and tore yourself away from the black magic clinging to you. You tugged him towards the exit, not needing to look to see how the magic stuck to you. You could feel it crawling along your skin, chilling you to the bone where it touched. You would deal with that later.

First, there was the matter of the crowded semi-circle of guardsmen outside of the cave’s entrance. You quickly scanned the crowd, counting heads.

Thirty.

Each of them was holding a large bone staff similar to the elder’s, gripped between both of their hands and crossed in front of their chests. They weren’t making any move to attack, though, so you thought you might as well _try_ not to kill them.

“Hey, guys,” you said, holding up your free hand. “If you—”

A thorny vine burst from the ground at your feet and shot straight for your face, splitting off into thin tendrils shaped like grasping fingers.

“Whoah!” you gasped, ducking towards Sans at the very last second. He caught you with one arm while the other shot out, fingers splayed wide as his left eye exploded into colour. Overhead you heard a deafening, guttural roar and you were briefly blinded by a beam of light that soared over his other shoulder. Your entire body was instantly on fire from both the surge of magic rushing from you to Sans and the heat from the laser-like beam pouring from the mouth of the oversized, bestial skull that hovered in the air behind Sans. You gaped at it, and realised that it was looking back at you, its eyes flashing much the same as Sans’s did.

The next second, it disintegrated, and when you looked to where it had fired, you saw that the man who had attacked you had disintegrated, too.

“Whoah,” you breathed.

Sans chuckled in your ear.

“what, you thought i’d shown you all my moves last night?” he whispered quickly, before giving you a wink and rolling you around to his other side, dipping you slightly as he did so. You saw another burst of light shoot out over your shoulders and consume another of the guards, though you couldn’t hear the scream over the sound of the beam. 

You were breathing hard, now, watching the other guards’ reactions. Some of them looked close to being sick, as they watched their comrade’s soul literally shatter in front of their eyes. Most of them just looked even more determined to attack, though. You found yourself mirroring Sans’s gentle but active sways, ready to call on your magic at the slightest provocation. Asgore stirred softly within you, and you tried to simulate the motion of stroking his soul to comfort him, though you weren’t sure how successful you were.

You didn’t have time to worry about that, though, as two of the guards charged forward suddenly, scooping their staves in an upward arc towards you. Thick, heavy swords of air came slicing against you, battering at yours and Sans’s intertwined hands. You cried out as your arm nearly gave way, the air pressing your elbow too far forward so that it felt as though it would break. The only thing keeping your hand in Sans’s at that point _was_ Sans. You could hardly grip him back with the searing pain that ran up your arm.

Sans yanked you to the side and you stumbled along with him, snarling as another guard tried to take advantage of his distraction by swirling together a wall of water from the densely humid air around you.

You growled and sliced through the air with your free arm, calling on your magic with raw, unfiltered rage fuelling you.

The wall of water was consumed and evaporated just before the man was as well, though not so neatly as Sans’s victim had been. His skin blistered and peeled, bubbled and boiled, his blood bursting from thick pockets that formed in his flesh. He screamed, a long, loud shriek that was almost inhuman in its sheer agony, and clawed at his skin as he collapsed to his knees.

His soul died soon after he did, the same as the others. You swore loudly, and turned your smiling glare to the rest of the guards, your hand still dripping with fire.

You were done playing merciful.

You silently whispered an apology to your sister.

“Sans,” you called over the noise of the guards shouts of fear, cutting through the air again towards the two air-mages that had nearly broken your arm.  Their bodies lit with flame as the copse broke into more screams. Twenty-five left. “You alright?”

“peachy,” Sans called back, throwing a wave of bones through the ground towards the group of guards as all hell broke loose. No one was waiting their turn now, and you were suddenly realising how difficult it would be to fight off literally dozens of mages at once. Somehow, though, the odds stacked against you only increased your determination to win, and you could feel your magic swelling and mingling with Sans’s, reaching for the other through your clasped hands. You tugged him slightly to make him dodge an oncoming fireball, and proceeded to duck from it yourself as it swung around, laughing with the thrill of the fight.

“Good, ‘cause I think it’s time we showed these fools how we fight in Underground!”

Sans’s toothy grin grew dark and fierce, and before you knew it, he had swung you close for the briefest touch of teeth to lips in a chaste kiss. You laughed again and swung away when you saw a spectre of a wolf made of lightning charging straight for you.

“Sans—lightning—!” was the only thing you managed to choke out before the elemental creature was leaping straight into the gaping mouth of another gigantic skull, this one much larger than the others. It blocked you and Sans from the elemental and a small tornado of fire before cracking and crumbling to dust in front of you.

“heya, sweetheart, be a doll and snatch a weapon from those stiffs on the count of three?” Sans asked, squeezing your hand roughly.

“You got it, Boss,” you agreed as he threw another wide wave of bones towards a cluster of men, spitting with your fire magic coated around them. The group scattered, but not fast enough. Three of the men were caught in the crossfire, and you winced as the bones battered one man’s arms so hard that they tore from his body, then caved in another man’s chest until you could see the bones of his ribs poking through his skin, and finally caught the last man’s legs in such a way that he fell into the full wave of bones, his body getting mangled until he didn’t even look remotely human-shaped anymore.

All three of their souls shattered within seconds.

Twenty-two left.

“alrighty, here we go,” Sans called as several bursts of magic came racing toward you over the mens’ broken bodies. “one!” You both fell back towards the cave entrance again, where the first guards had fallen, but had to stop to throw fire and bones in the way of more magic attacks. Your magic followed the trail of a net of thorny vines until it met the staff where it originated, twining up through the bone until it slipped inside the mage who wielded it and burned him from within. You barely paid any attention to the death of his and several other guards’ souls as you turned your head towards where you’d be reaching for a weapon.

“two!”

Another couple of steps back, and you were just about close enough to reach the dagger on the belt of the man you had killed first. You were just waiting for the call to action.

Another two men fell.

Sans glanced over at you, and you finally noticed that his runes were glowing bright underneath his shirt, though the one burned across his opposite hand was not lit yet.

You suddenly had an idea of what his plan was.

He grinned devilishly and shouted,

“three!”

You leaped down and yanked the dead man’s dagger from his belt in one smooth motion. You were about to shout that you had it, but before you could, Sans had dragged you back up by your still-clasped hands and thrown you forward into his arms. You instinctively reached for his other hand and as soon as you took hold of it around the knife handle, a brilliant burst of purple light exploded from the two of you, washing over the entire clearing.

The men all staggered at once, their magical attacks stuttering and flickering in the air between you, before being snuffed out one-by-one. Some of them dropped their staves as though they’d been burned by them, leaving them wide open for attack.

And that was exactly what you and Sans did.

The dagger gripped tightly in your free hand, you became Sans’s weapon, striking where he called as you flitted from man to man. You slit throats, cut arteries, and buried your knife nearly to the hilt in just enough men that by the time Sans’s spell had worn off, there was only five left.

Every single soul had crumbled the same as the others, but by the grim, determined look in the remaining men’s eyes, you were hopeful of a stronger soul in the lot.

You and Sans squared off against them, both of your chests heaving with the effort you had expended in the mad rush to kill.

No one was making a move.

You quickly scanned the faces left, and saw that there was two fire mages, one earth mage, and two that you hadn’t seen do anything the entire time.

You glanced over at Sans to see what plan he had, but he looked completely out of it. His skull was dripping with sweat, and you could see a glowing heart at his chest where the souls writhed and spat coloured flames. You tugged at his hand, but he didn’t even look at you.

“now,” Sans said in a voice that, on the surface, sounded light and casual, but underneath was a will of steel, “are you going to play nice or are we gonna have to put you in time out as well?”

The mages shared a look between them, seemingly uncertain as to how they should proceed. You didn’t blame them. Sans made for an intimidating sight at the moment, with his heaving chest and empty eye-sockets—his manic smile—his wide stance—everything about him screamed dangerous. Especially considering the two of you had just taken out twenty of their comrades with little real effort.

You almost felt sorry for them.

“If you stop this now, and swear to leave and never return, we’ll spare you,” you said softly, your voice hard with emotion. It took everything in you to say those words—to offer even a shred of mercy to the people who had destroyed your life.

But you owed it to your sister to at least _try_.

Asgore’s soul trembled inside your own, though you couldn’t tell if it was from disapproval or pride.

The mages gripped their staves with both hands, still wavering on their feet. You could see one of them begin to finger a rune near the top of their staff, and you sighed, surprised that you were actually a little disappointed.

But you had tried, and you weren’t really _that_ sorry for them.

“Well, if you want to do it the hard way—”

You lifted your knife-wielding hand to send a wave of fire their way, but as you did, Sans lifted his own hand in a sharp upwards motion. Bones burst from the ground and met your fire to form a fiery cage around the remaining mages. They scrambled to leave, but before they could, the bones twisted and pulled together to crush the men inside. Screams rent the air and you watched with a sick curiosity as limbs splintered and broke, poking out at odd angles from between the cage of bones.

The bones disintegrated.

The mens’ souls soon followed.

Then, finally, silence.

Your chest heaving with exertion, you looked over to Sans, ignoring the icy threads of dark magic lovingly tracing their way up your legs. He looked back at you, his ribs expanding and contracting as his mouth fell open. His eyes were flickering with the different souls contained within him, and he had his hand pressed flat against his chest. You frowned softly, giving his other hand a little tug. “Y’alright?”

“yeah, i’m good,” he huffed, shaking his head like a dog ridding himself of water. “just havin’ some trouble keepin’ these souls in line.” He gave you a winking smile, though you could see the effort it took him. “looks like you aren’t the only determined one around here.”

Your eyebrows twitched together, still, despite his reassurance. There were beads of sweat gathering at his temples, and you released his hand to wipe it away. As soon as you did, though, the black magic pooled around the copse sprang from the ground and clasped itself around your wrists, winding its way up your arms. You let loose a grunt of disgust and tried to loosen it, but you were distracted by the choking cry that Sans let out. You looked up to see him doubled over, his eyes flashing erratically between the soul colours. 

“Sans, what’s—”

“I wouldn’t bother trying to talk to poor old Sans. He’s a little…indisposed at the moment,” a horribly familiar voice said from behind you, sending creeping fingers of dread down your spine. You spun around as best as you could, and your heart dropped into your stomach. “Why don’t _we_ have a little talk, _Sister_?”

It was your sister’s husband.

You could practically feel the rage blooming from your eyes as you saw the man who had betrayed your sister and caused her death. You hated every inch of him, from his wan, arrogant face to his disgusting, lank hair that looked so much like his father’s. In fact, he was practically his father’s twin, though his body seemed to be holding up much better to the black magic than his father’s had. You noticed the tome from the cave clenched under his arm in passing, as well as the black magic bubbling from his hands and spilling to the ground.

“Yes, let’s talk about how you’re _dead_ , you _traitor_ ,” you growled, straining forward. The magic kept you in place, though, no matter how hard you struggled. The smug bastard just laughed at you, and you snarled wordlessly with bloodlust.

“Well, and you were _supposed_ to be dead, too, Sister, but that didn’t seem to stop you.” There was a pause as he smiled. “How _did_ you manage that?”

“ _Magic_ ,” you spat, glaring daggers at the elder’s son.

He chuckled. “I suppose I deserve that. Was it magic that brought you back through the barrier as well, or was it maybe those SOULs cuddling up inside that monster?”

You didn’t respond, choosing instead to simply narrow your eyes at him. He already knew the answer, so why should you bother?

The black magic around your wrists twisted higher on your arms.

“Well, in any case, I’d like to thank you for bringing them to me, Sister,” the elder’s son said, smiling wide. “Now that I have the seven SOULs, I can use them to break the barrier and gather up all those lovely monster SOULs myself. Won’t that be a treat?”

You laughed mockingly, though your stomach was clenched with fear at the thought of him getting to the monsters. “Aren’t you forgetting something? We only have _six_ SOULs.”

“Mm, not for long.”

Your heart fell with a sickening twist, and then you realised that you had hand-delivered the seventh SOUL directly to them.

Yours.

You clenched your jaw and spoke through your teeth, trying to ignore the spiking fear inside you. “It doesn’t matter. Even if you kill me and break the barrier, you won’t be able to kill the monsters. They’re too strong for a coward like you.”

“We’ll see,” was all he said, as the black magic coiled around your shoulders, tickling your neck.

You watched as he turned back to the cave, his grin toothy and dangerous, and raised his blackened hand, slowly gripping it into a fist. You looked over to see Sans panting hard, his eyes wide and vacant as they flashed. It was obvious he wasn’t with you, mentally. He was somewhere else, fighting to keep hold of the SOULs. You wished desperately you could help him, but you knew he was strong enough to do it by himself.

You turned your eyes back to the elder’s son, squirming with discomfort as the black magic trickled down onto your collarbone and sternum. You were starting to get worried, the closer it got to your SOUL. You didn’t know what it would do when it got there.

You really didn’t want to find out.

You grimaced as the elder’s son began speaking in a strange, whispering tongue, his words slithering in your ears. Your gut heaved when you realised that you’d heard it before, from your parents’ study, in the dark of the night when the world was sleeping.

You watched with horror as a slumped figure emerged from the cave, black magic oozing from its eyes and mouth, its head lolling back on its loose neck.

It was the elder, his body moving as though a puppeteer held him aloft. His head and shoulders were slumped back, the trails of black magic dribbling down the front of his robes. You glanced down with a wince to see that there was fat globs of magic oozing from the holes in his body, as well. 

The elder’s son’s smile grew wicked as he looked at his father’s reanimated body. “Hallo, Father. Aren’t you looking lovely? I’ve been waiting a long, _long_ time to get you here. Right where I want you.” He gave a squeeze of his hand and the body twitched and thrashed, a squealing groan gurgling from its dead throat. Shudders rolled down your body in thick waves, and you had to look away.

The black magic curled into a spiral over your soul, vibrating like a purring cat.

“But before I can put you to work destroying the rest of those monsters, Father, I need you to take care of a little setback first.” The elder’s son glanced at you with sharp, wild eyes, and your lips twitched with hate. “You always did want to punish the girl. You may have failed the first three times I set you to it, but luckily I’m a forgiving man.”

You thrashed and grunted hard as the elder’s body turned towards you, its head rolling forward on its shoulder before righting itself. Your stomach heaved with fright as the body lumbered its way over to you, its hands held out towards you. The acrid, burning smell of black magic and the rotten sweetness of death hit you as the body’s slightly swollen fingers wrapped around your throat, gripping hard enough to make your eyes water instantly.

The black magic sank down through you, wriggling through your pores to settle under your skin.

You heard yourself choking and gasping for breath from a faraway place. You couldn’t feel the pain anymore, though, or the pressure of hands cutting off your blood supply. You were floating somewhere between waking and sleeping, and there was only darkness around you. Whispers—insistent and growing in volume in your ears—filled the staticky, dark space where you were now.

And then you heard your sister’s voice.

Soft, quiet, cracked—she sounded as though she was whispering at the other end of a field.

_Op…en…_

_Op…en your…self to…_

_The…ssssssshadoooooooows…_

You tried to call out to her, but your voice was smothered in the shadowy magic.

_The…shadows…_

_Belong…_

_To…_

_…You…_

You felt a swarm of thin, prying fingers around your soul, and under your sister’s guidance, you relaxed. They immediately sank into you, engulfing your soul as though you were falling into the depths of the ocean.

_It is…_

_Who you…_

_Are…_

And then you opened your eyes.

It had only taken a few moments to change your entire world.

Funny how that was _always_ happening to you.

You smiled into the dead eyes of the elder, his hands on your throat stilled completely now. Beyond him, you could see his son looking practically manic with glee as he watched his father attempt to kill you. When the elder’s hands slid off of your throat and flopped back to his sides, though, the smile on his son’s face faltered.

And yours grew.

“Well,” you said, pretending to dust off the front of your shirt, ignoring the blood spattered there, “that was a good try, at least. A solid effort.”

“H-how—what—” the elder’s son stuttered, taking a step back and looking down to the tome in his arms with growing panic.

“But I think it’s time for you to take a nap, old man.”

You called on the endless well of shadows that had consumed the magic within your soul and it rose to your fingertips with a staticky purr. You watched runes press up from underneath the skin on the back of your hand and leak through, staining you like a living tattoo. You didn’t even glance at the elder as you sent the shadows forth, draining the black magic from his corpse in a second. As his body collapsed to the ground—now a lifeless, desiccated husk—you turned your toothy smile onto the elder’s son, your eyes wide with excitement.

He looked _terrified_ , and you loved it.

“Your turn.”

“N-no!” the elder’s son gasped, falling back against the entrance of the cave as the black magic surged across the ground towards you, climbing lovingly up your legs. “You—you stay right where you are, you freak! If you don’t, I’ll—I’ll—”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you said, your laughter rasping from your throat. “Perhaps you misunderstood. You seem to be thinking that you have a choice.”

The elder’s son’s eyes widened with fright just as you reached for the dark magic running through his veins and _twisted_. A gasping, gurgling sound was squeezed from his throat as you took control of his body, the shadows whispering with delight all the while. With one hand, you tossed your knife towards the man, while making a catching motion with the other, watching with a giggle as he mirrored your moves. He’d caught the knife by the blade, but his hand wasn’t hurt enough to not be able to twist it around and hold it by the handle.

You looked him in the eyes with a smile as you raised your hand up to your throat, the elder’s son still mirroring you by force. He was shaking all over, his eyes pleading with you as sweat rolled down his forehead.

“For his crimes against my family and the monsters’, he shall be slit ear to ear,” you said, your voice low with fervour. “Let this judgement bring fortune to our lives once more. Let this demon meet its fate in the hell that waits for him.” You paused. “Let the judged speak their last words.”

You loosened the grip over the man’s throat and mouth, but as soon as you did, that same hissing, spitting language of death spilled from his lips. Without hesitation, you yanked your hand across your throat, watching as the knife split his neck open in a gush of blood. You waited until the last spark of light had left his eyes before letting him fall to the ground. His blackened, yet still full SOUL hovered in the air above him, seemingly strong enough to persist beyond death.

“Wrong words.”

You just stood there for a long while, trying to come to terms with the fact that your sister’s murder had now been avenged. You had finally gotten your revenge on him and the elder.

You were free. _Truly free_.

Just as the elder’s son’s SOUL seemed ready to fade away, you reached for it and grasped it in you hands, grimacing at the slimy feel of it. It clung to the black magic still wriggling under your skin, and you glared at it with disgust. 

There was _no way_ you were putting his SOUL close to yours and Asgore’s, even if they _were_ both now steeped in black magic. It would have to make do being held in your hand until you and Sans could use it to destroy the barrier.

Speaking of…

You turned to see Sans watching you, his eye-lights white once more as he gave you a tiny, understanding smile.

“is it over?”

You returned his smile, and nodded.

Sans took a deep breath and exhaled it before his smile turned cheeky. “took ya long enough. thought i might fall asleep waitin’ for you to finish the job.”

You gaped at him before cracking up, laughing loud and long. “Wh—what are you talking about? Are you telling me you were awake that whole time?” you gasped.

Sans shrugged loosely as he dug a hand in his pocket, giving you a quick wink when he pulled out his cigarettes and propped one between his teeth. “maybe i am, maybe i’m not. does it matter? you had it under control.”

“Yeah, thanks to my sister!” you laughed, shaking your head. “She’s the one who told me to use the black magic!”

“yeah? and who do you think _let_ her tell you?” Sans said, strolling up to you with a wide grin and a chuckle. “speaking of black magic—you should see your face right now. it’s no wonder the guy was scared shitless. you look like a demon straight out of a scary movie.”

Your eyebrows pulled together slightly with confusion, though you still smiled. Sans nodded down at the knife and you grunted as you knelt down to clean it off on the elder’s son’s clothes. Once it was clean enough to get a slight reflection, you turned it towards yourself.

“Whoah, hey there!” you yelped with a laugh, blinking and taking another look at yourself. “Wow, I really do, don’t I? Black eyes and all.”

You grinned down at the blurry reflection of your new face, shrugging after a second.

“Eh, I’m sure I’ll get used to it.”

You stood back up, glancing around the copse at the bodies littered everywhere as you stretched. “So, should we clean up before we leave the party, or do you think they’ll hire a maid service?”

Sans snorted with laughter. “hey, forget about it. we’ll just turn mettaton’s dial to ‘cleaner’ a couple of days before moving into our new house.”

You gave him a sly look as you tucked your hand into your pocket, rocking forward onto the balls of your feet. “Our new house, huh?”

A soft blue dusted Sans’s cheeks as he looked up at you with wide eye sockets. “i—i mean, y’know, papyrus and i’ll probably just end up livin’ together again, but, uh—i mean, if you _wanted_ to, you could—y’know—”

You laughed, your voice high with happiness. “Oh, Sans, are you asking me to move in with you? Wow, that’s pretty serious, you know. Kind of a big step.” A teasing smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. “Could that mean—”

“hey, just forget it if you don’t—”

“—you lo-ove me!” you teased in a sing-song voice, bouncing gently back and forth between your feet. “You want to kiss me and marry me and have a happily ever after with me!”

Sans shook his head with faux-disgust, though he was obviously fighting a losing battle against a smile. “don’t be a shit.” 

“Sure thing, Boss,” you snarked, getting an eye-roll in return, to your delight. “Come on, then. Let's go let everyone else out of that cage.”

Sans frowned softly. “what about the rest of the people in the village? what should we do about them?” There was a slight pause, then Sans’s frown deepened. “what about _that_?” he asked, nodding down to the large black tome now splattered with the elder’s son’s blood. 

You regarded it thoughtfully, pulling your lip between your teeth. You weren't worried at all about the other villagers putting up a fight. They would likely scatter to the winds now that their leaders had died. 

But that book...

“don't you want to know what’s in there?”

You thought about the secrets that might be held within that tome—secrets about your family, about why they were involved with black magic, about why they never told you, instead letting your sister hold those secrets on her shoulders alone.

About why that same magic had nestled into your soul as though that's where it had always belonged.

As though it was finally home.

You thought about what you could do with that book, now that you had that kind of power inside you.

Then you thought about how it had fallen into the elder’s possession.

About the lives it had claimed while in the wrong hands.

You made a decision.

“Hey Boss, you got enough power in you for a short cut?”

Sans’s brows rose high. “sure, doll. you wanna take some time to think on what to do with that book or somethin’?”

“Something like that,” you said with a tight smile, handing over your knife so you could hoist up the tome under your free arm. Sans slid one of his arms around your waist while the other hand went behind your neck, pulling your forehead down against his.

You looked deeply into his eyes, your heart crying with the pain of your decision. You could feel the power resting in the tome—you knew it was heavy with the secrets of life and death. You weren’t naïve—you knew it was most likely that your sister's SOUL wouldn't be able to return to her body after being used to destroy the barrier. Once you did this, it really would be goodbye. 

But with this tome….with your new magic…

You might be able to bring her back.

But…

Would she be the same?

Would she still be your sister?

Even if she was, would she _want_ to return?

Could you do that to her, just to have a chance to see her again?

You already knew the answer to that.

“ready, sweetheart?”

You smiled sadly and nodded.

“good. ‘cause i think it's about time for everyone to say hello to our new home.”

With a bright, wide smile that sent shivers through you, Sans gripped you close and you felt the world open under your feet. You closed your eyes as you fell through the void, remembering your sister's smile. Her laugh. Her arms around you as she sang you to sleep.

You heard the whispers from the tome, pleading with you to reconsider.

You smiled.

And let it go.

 

~

 

**EPILOGUE**

You were laughing at one of Sans’s bad jokes when the post was put through the door. You didn’t bother going to get it—it would only be junk mail, anyway. Sans asked you if he should go get it, but you waved a hand and told him there was something much more productive he could be doing with his time than bad jokes and junk mail.

He agreed.

Afterwards, when you were both laying in bed, just holding each other and drifting off, you heard the front door open and shut. Someone stomped to the bottom of the stairs, and your ears perked up. Only a few people had keys to the house, but no one had called to say they were coming over. You wondered if something bad had happened.

“HEY, YOU TWO, GUESS WHAT CAME IN THE MAIL YOU NEVER BOTHER TO CHECK?”

You grinned at the sound of Papyrus’s shouting. He had loosened up so much after coming to the surface. He was always full of boisterous energy, now, as though he literally could not stop shouting with excitement.

“What is it, Papyrus?” you called back, rolling from the bed to drag one of Sans’s shirts on as quick as possible. Papyrus’s loud stomping strides were already halfway up the stairs when you threw Sans his  trousers. He gave you a grateful smile and dragged them on, hopping to yank them over his hips just as Papyrus burst in.

“It’s the citizenship fo—oh, for _God’s sake_ , Sans, you could have _said something_.”

You laughed at the blush spreading across Papyrus’s cheekbones, snatching the large envelope from his hands. You frowned as you flipped it over before your brain finally caught up, and you squealed with excitement as you tore into it.

“Sans, oh my God, it’s the form—they’ve agreed to interview everyone for citizenship.”

“well, isn’t that a cherry on our sundae, huh?” Sans said, taking the form from you when you offered it. He peered up at you over the paper. “the due date on this is pretty soon, though. you gonna fill it out now?”

You nodded, rooting around in your satchel for a pen, cursing at the mess. A lovely, monogrammed, _manager’s_ pen slid into view, and you smiled up at Papyrus gratefully. “Thanks, Paps. Would lose my ass if my head wasn’t shoved up it.”

You took the pen as the brothers chuckled at your joke, tossing it over to Sans, who caught it with a surprised look. “Sorry, Boss, I gotta get some clothes on if we’re gonna go into town. You mind doin’ it for me?”

Sans gave you disgruntled look, but sat down at the desk nevertheless. “sure, doll. probably for the best, anyway—if you filled it out, they wouldn’t be able to read that chicken-scratch you call handwriting.”

You just pointed a warning finger at him before dragging your panties and trousers on under Sans’s shirt. You saw Papyrus shaking his head out of the corner of your eye as you turned to grab a bra.

“Well, at least you two won’t have any trouble fooling them about being married.”

You laughed as you shrugged out of the shirt, hooking up the old, slightly-too-loose bra as you looked over your shoulder at Papyrus. “Who says we’d be foolin’ anyone?”

You were rewarded with a slow, disbelieving jaw-drop and a furious dash of eyes between you and Sans. You were in stitches by the time that Sans ruined your fun by saying,

“paps, she’s just yankin’ your chain. you know we wouldn’t do something like that without tellin’ ya.” He threw you a disapproving look before giving you a tiny wink, which you returned. “anyway, help me fill out this form, would ya?”

“Whatcha need help with?” you asked, tugging the shirt back on and attempting to button it up as you leaned over Sans’s shoulder to look at the form. You cracked up all over when you saw his hand hovering over the ‘given name’ line. He gave a laughing snort.

“cram it, it wasn’t that part I needed help with, you shit. believe it or not, i actually know how to spell frisk.”

You froze for a second, your heart dropping to  your stomach, though your smile still pulled at your lips. “Oh. Uh. Yeah, right—about that.”

Sans glanced up at you, his brows raised.

“Frisk isn’t my legal name. I kind of…took it.” You paused, glancing down at the tiny heart-shaped tattoo you’d gotten over your left hand in memory of your sister after her funeral. “From my sister.”

Sans and Papyrus both looked completely dumbfounded at the reveal of your biggest secret, and you smiled apologetically.

“Sorry, I know I should have said something sooner, but I—I’m not planning on changing back anytime soon, so I didn’t think it was important. At first, it was just about not forgetting her, and who she was, but…now…” You shrugged. “I kind of feel like a Frisk, you know?”

Sans exchanged a look with his brother for a long, tense moment, before shrugging and turning to you with a cheeky smile. “no difference to us what we call you. what should I put on the form, though?”

You bit your lip, leaning back over Sans’s shoulder as he turned to the form once more. “Use my actual name. It’s C…H…A…”

 

 


End file.
